Well, someone liked my girl and I, I don't mean Nose picking soapbox some which just stand I'll chafe red from scratching from the fleas The couch that came to call me as she steps on me Something about her that would melt a man I'm not hitting in streaks Well I was about to touch myself when All the coal could turn to pure water I board the air express, yeah, well Real filth in tired matches Yeah, puts up and milks it Randy little bastard skipping stars just to get to me Something wrong with the steps of man Think I'll go down to Roswell and get me an alien hand Can I push you over my knee But it's not enough for your insipid ass I found dead insects and cockbull Last time you left with that yellow trash Her mind can't budge, she sees a frigid ass So you believe the stuff raid So you believe the mistake More from Mondo Generator