Doctor Scott - Prayer Of The Rollerboys
Caution 432 VoltsWashington Bullets & Baltimore Colts
Yeaoh, Too Damn Vein
Prayer with the late Rollerboy Corey Haim
Zippers of the gooey
Hookers on the block looking like Baba Booey
Les Schwab rubber, Less than a bargain
More money, more green grass in my garden
Roosevelt popcorn, Super 8 telly
She was more than able with the double apron belly
Cut the cable, Shaking on my dreidel
Very big "Big Dipper", Diamonds on my ladle
Cats in the cradle, Dogs in the oven
Ate too much lunch, that's word to my muffin
Candlestick pop-up, harder than a boner
Ernie Riles with the #10-G homer
Home Alone with the Time Magazine bar code
Killed her in Colusa, Buried her in Barstow
Scottish with the kilt
White without the guilt
Urban with the voice in my head, Full tilt
Split Pea Soup
Green Tea, Teriyaki, Timberland boots
UPS, FedEx, A pony out of Lubbock
Tate's dad, Ralph Barbieri, Razor Ruddock
I don't give a fu-ddick
Very mad right now
Obviously very upset
I think my handlers need to provide me with more Green M&M's
They call it the Green Room
But I'm looking at a bag full of Yellow M&M's (Excuse me, Excuse me)
Unbelievable
And these fucking Jolly Ranchers
No Cherry, No Watermelon (The fuck city am I in?)
Maybe one Green Apple (The fuck city am I in?)
Very upset
Very upset
These disinfecting wipes are not Clorox
This ain't the "Kills 99.9% of Viruses and Bacteria" type of wipes
These are for like, you know, disabled girls who can't reach themselves with...
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, that's fine (Hubba hubba)
That's fine
I like that
I'm an advocate (Hubba hubba)
I'm an advocate
I'm like, Yo I had to hit
Hands up in the air like "Yeah, I did it"
Fuck, they caught me red-handed
Blood under my fingernails
This shit is turning brown
The M&M's are Brown
The fucking Jolly Ranchers are goddamn fucking Blueberry
They're Blueberry Jolly Ranchers
I'm not out here trying to drink Lean
Do I look lean to you?
You hear this chair creaking?
The chair don't creak for Slim Jenkins
You know wha' I'm saying?
The chair don't creak for fucking Thin Belly Watkins
You know wha' I'm saying?
Written by:
Scott Winter
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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