Print

Hey.... Hey...Hey You did it, you got it You wowed the world Of casting agents and cowgirls Dress up you're dressed up to kill yourself Girl, I'm a walking plan-crash to your moms and dads Ostentatious and crass pulling the gauze off your scabs Bitch, I negate the myth of the 'great black boyfriend' In the Polaroid at the get-together Wearing a corduroy vest-sweater So don't get that engagement ring engraved Cuz before we met you thought that hoodrats laid eggs And that rappers were just sky-pirates with peg legs But I kick it with you simply for the shits and giggles, playful innuendos You thought, "he's just an uber-dred for the federal fiscal cap" but after brunch, you'll need 2 Sudafed's and a disco nap After I drain your insides with a crazy straw You ain't my baby doll- "cuz nigga you reek of coffee shop blend" My body's a lollipop that caters to the miss polyglot's whim With addictive agents that outweigh oxycodones And our phobias perfectly fit It takes a quirky chick with curvy hips to petrify this working-stiff Letras de cancionesYou did it, you got it You wowed the world Of casting agents and cowgirls Fess up you're dressed up to kill yourself While I'm still on shelf They want an everyman milking the oldest gags Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flags They want an everyman milking the oldest gags Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flags I'll be today's avatar of the prefab Then end up a child star in rehab It's like a bed-and-breakfast I'm sending a text message on my key pad Saying, "I hav no more to say to my ex-manager(slash)sea hag divorcee Except eat shit and die" My daily commute ends with a fender-bender Cuz no one acknowledges my ten-year tenure I've got the know-how the thrill your scene But they want someone lowbrow, a philistine With iron-on irony for Viacom's white honkies They'll send you a girl wearing tight thongs under nylon gi's "let's all hit!" but I'm not for the gaudy gangbang the thought of it turns my member to a soggy plantain and shit, I get off on news leads and you eat pet mouse meat, set and poised with sex toys in your penthouse suite believing you're Lou Reed I spit used reeds out the wet mouthpiece Even when sex appeal is taboo, electric bills are past due My head is clear of engineered, election year snafu You did it, you got it You wowed the world Of casting agents and cowgirls Fess up you're dressed up to kill yourself While I'm still on shelf They want an everyman milking the oldest gags Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flags They want an everyman milking the oldest gags Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flags I used to say, fuck it Wouldn't placate the functionaries To busy making playdates with buxom secretaries but I hope that my homies don't laugh, my choreographed dance steps Are a little effeminate for a sociopath We've been airbrushed so much we look like a claymation zoo I'm a voice over on your Playstation 2 But in my hey-day my ethical fiber would turn stages into firewood You did it, you got it You wowed the world Of casting agents and cowgirls Fess up you're dressed up to kill yourself While I'm still on shelf They want an everyman milking the oldest gags Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flags They want an everyman milking the oldest gags Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flag (Thanks to Erik for these lyrics) From Letras Mania