Album: Hooray For Boobies (2000)
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  • We gonna drop this next bomb for a money makin' playa that ain't with us no mo
    Yeah, Notorious B.I.G.
    Hell no, we gonna do this for a gangbanging thug that never seen it comin'
    Yeah, Tupac Shakur
    Nah bitch, I'm talkin' 'bout motherfuckin' Falco and shit
    What? Falco?

    Ooh, rock me Amadeus
    Ooh, rock me Amadeus
    Ooh, rock me Amadeus
    Ooh, rock me Amadeus

    Ooh, rock me Amadeus
    Ooh, rock me Amadeus
    Ooh, rock me Amadeus
    Ooh, rock me Amadeus
    Ooh, rock me Amadeus

    Tried to O.D. on the Cold-Eeze
    "Golden Girls" got me "Sweatin' To The Oldies"
    Hanging out like Double Ds, sip Long Island Iced Teas
    Wrote to Mayor McCheese "Send a Shamrock Shake please!"
    Three O' Clock on the dot, time to cruise for Eighth graders
    Rather tape the Weather Channel so that I can watch it later
    Reruns of Rerun, so What's Happening?
    Dee's knocked up and Rog on crack again
    Deep throat a whole Nutty Buddy
    Make whoopie to a batch of Silly Putty
    Make a Spam and Colgate sandwich, and ate it
    Go through "National Geographic" and draw panties on the natives
    So I like to dance naked in front of my pets
    But my cat was inattentive so I sent him UPS
    Playin' spin the bottle with my mom
    I watch "Cops" with no pants on

    Must've blown a fuse, nothing's going on
    Lamer than the Pope, climb the walls like King Kong
    Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes
    Deader than the parents on a Party of Five
    Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill
    Not going nowhere, slim chance we will
    Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood
    Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood

    Relax, don't do it when you wanna go to it
    Relax, don't do it when you wanna come
    Relax, don't do it when you wanna go to it
    Relax, don't do it when you wanna come

    Nowhere to go, I can't wake up late
    Just sit around and wait for my Old Spice to activate
    Stalemate, jailbait, in "My So-Called Life" imprisonment
    Amazing what a good breakfast pickles make, isn't it?
    I like to pretend I'm speed reading
    Never lose the sight of the thrill of sneezing
    Don't need a shower today, just some Brut by Faberge
    Smell the ass of my jeans, clean, they'll do another day
    And I recycle, I sniff my own farts
    I dial the wrong number, hope a conversation starts
    I mean I might as well be listenin' to Journey
    Givin' myself a mullet, hook the Flowbee to the Kirby
    Make a prank call pretendin' I'm a mime
    Get stuck in traffic just to pass the time
    Sent a letter in the mail, in Braille, to Johnny Quest
    Send me back my Etch-A-Sketch

    Must've blown a fuse, nothing's going on
    Lamer than the Pope, climb the walls like King Kong
    Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes
    Deader than the parents on a Party of Five
    Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill
    Not going nowhere, slim chance we will
    Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood
    Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood

    Relax, don't do it when you wanna go to it
    Relax, don't do it when you wanna come
    Relax, don't do it when you wanna go to it
    Relax, don't do it when you wanna come

    I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums
    When you wanna come
    I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums
    When you wanna come
    I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums
    When you wanna come
    I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums
    When you wanna come

    Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
    What it is motherfuckers?
    Aw shit, here comes Pac-Man
    Hey Pac-Man, what's up?
    Me, you bitches! I'm high on crack! Wanna freebase?
    No, Pac-Man, drugs are bad
    Nope, can't help you man
    Pussies, whoa, holy shit

    Must've blown a fuse, nothing's going on
    Lamer than the Pope, climb the walls like King Kong
    Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes
    Deader than the parents on a Party of Five
    Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill
    Not going nowhere, slim chance we will
    Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood
    Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood

    Relax, don't do it when you wanna go to it
    Relax, don't do it when you wanna come
    Relax, don't do it when you wanna go to it
    Relax, don't do it when you wanna come

    Holy macaroni
    Holy macaroni
    Holy macaroni
    Holy macaroni
    Holy macaroni
    Holy macaroni
    Holy macaroni
    Holy macaroni Writer/s: Clifford Lee Burton, Ferdinand Bolland, James Hetfield, Johann Hoelzel, Lars Ulrich, Mark O'Toole, Peter Gill, Robert Bolland, William Johnson
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

Comments: 4

  • Landon from Winchester, Oh"I might as well be listening to Journey." Not funny. Like the rest of the song, though.
  • Alvaro from Barranquilla, Columbia(in the video) During the chorus you can see "MetallicA" logo above the "bloodhound gang" logo in the top of the stage, but it's covered by an X.
  • Sid from Waynesvile, Ncthis song is about being lazy and mopeing around. It's also about finding stuff to do while your board
  • Cassie from Hamilton, NjThis song rocks! I'm honored to be the first to comment. I love the part when it talks about watching Cops.
see more comments

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