(words and music by: z. walters)
fully loaded like an M-16, like walter winchell had exploded check the inseam take a breath and spit cause i cannot sing if you do you're a fool gonna push you, with a stick or a pick or a shovel fool, wheel barrel automatic or another
but anyways back to the pooridge i was cookin hate being lonely so i'm always overbookin goodlookin lady make me wanna keep on lookin
turned on my mtv, must be something wrong with me, cause i can't see what all the dilettantes see, we're not on teen beat magazine but we don't quite suck like a suction machine, sell out, sell out