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Bloodhound Gang
Lyrics

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YOU’RE PRETTY WHEN I’M DRUNK
LIFT YOUR HEAD UP HIGH
I WISH I WAS QUEER SO I COULD GET CHICKS
IT’S TRICKY
BOOM
WHY’S EVERYBODY ALWAYS PICKIN’ ON ME
I HOPE U DIE
THE INEVITABLE RETURN OF THE GREAT WHITE DOPE
THREE POINT ONE FOUR
THE BALLAD OF CHASEY LAIN
A LAP DANCE IS SO MUCH BETTER

YOU’RE PRETTY WHEN I’M DRUNK

One night me and the crew hit the road on a mission
To slurp free brew and go fuzzy flounder fishin’
Kayjees on the hi-fi and the keg was bottomless
Until we brought Skip O’ Pot2mus
And Daddy’s gonna get some probably underage and dumb
And everybody knows that the Daddy eats his young
Lupus in the lavatory making a big stink
Macing up the toilet seat and pooping in the sink
M.S.G.’s tanked up and wizzin’ in a cup
Waiting for a sprinkle genie to come and drink it up
Cause I’m the one bottle willy with the 12 Horse Ale
After that I get silly like Soupy Sales
Now it’s midnight and I’m completely boofy blitzed
A six of Shlitz and the Jew brew Manischewitz
With my beer-tinted glasses I’m ready to bitty battle
I’m Hungry Like The Wolf but I’ll end up tending cattle

Cause you’re pretty when I’m drunk
(You’re pretty when I’m drunk)
You’re pretty when I’m drunk
(You’re pretty when I’m drunk)
You’re pretty when I’m drunk
(You’re pretty when I’m drunk)
You’re pretty when I’m drunk
(and I’m pretty fuckin’ drunk)

Here she comes, a funky fried cutie
Mr. Jimmy Pop Ali is gonna get some booty
Cause I’m Mr. McFeelie with a speedy delivery
You’d think I was a ditch the way this chick was diggin’ me
But maybe I should check and see if this is where I wanna be
Hey Lupus is she cute? Yea for a pygmie
Aw! What do you know? You’re probably going home alone
And it wouldn’t be the first time that I gave a dog a bone
Plus beauty, it’s only skin deep
It’s in the eye of the beholder and my beholder’s about to tweak
I could tap that barrel, in fact I know I can
It’s a msnags a trois you and me and Heineken

Cause you’re pretty when I’m drunk
(You’re pretty when I’m drunk)
You’re pretty when I’m drunk
(You’re pretty when I’m drunk)
You’re pretty when I’m drunk
(You’re pretty when I’m drunk)
You’re pretty when I’m drunk
(and I’m pretty fuckin’ drunk)

Regrets I’ve had a few
First and foremost I’d like to mention you
For the sake of conversation we’ll call you the Brand New Heavy
Your a mix between an Ugnaut and Eugene Levy
You can call it big-boned, I prefer to call it gut
You’re Buddha you’re Shamu you’re Jabba the fuckin’ Hutt
You had harpoon scars and your boobies were hairy
I smelt tuna melt but I wasn’t gonna worry
It was 3 A.M. and I wasn’t gettin’ squat
So I rolled you up in flour and aimed it for the wet spot
I was buttering rolls like a soup kitchen Christian
Then it hit me something bit me while my little rod was fishin’
I was deep sea fishing I took a fat chance
But how was i supposed to know that Jabberjaws lived in your pants
At that junction I came to realize
That only Frank Purdue likes thighs that size
Fatty fatty boom ba latty I gotta lament
That you were not a girl you were an experiment

Cause you’re pretty when I’m drunk
(You’re pretty when I’m drunk)
You’re pretty when I’m drunk
(You’re pretty when I’m drunk)
You’re pretty when I’m drunk
(You’re pretty when I’m drunk)
You’re pretty when I’m drunk
(and I’m pretty fuckin’ drunk)

LIFT YOUR HEAD UP HIGH

Do you still go to raves? Do you think Christ saves?
Do you spend your days in a Purple Haze?
Do you contemplate what a grape nut is?
Or could you live drinkin’ your own whiz?
Are you hooked on a feeling are you hooked on gin-n-tonics?
Are you hooked on fistin’ are you hooked on phonics?
Did you ever have sex with a box of Kleenex?
Did you like the movie Malcolm X?
Or do you own a record by Stryper?
Do you have a mongoloid cousin wearin’ diapers?
Where you born and raised in New Jersey?
Did you like the taste of Crystal Pepsi?
Are you deaf? Well if you are you can’t hear me
But what’s the use of living if your ear’s be?
Broken even if I had spoken clearly
You’re still not able to hear me
Cause life is a game that no one wins
But you deserve a headstart the way your life’s goin’
So throw in the towel cause your life ain’t shit
No take that towel and hang yourself with it
Life’s short and hard like a body-building elf
So save the planet and kill yourself
If your feeling down-and-out with what your life is all about
Lift your head up and blow your brains out

Lift your head up high and blow your brains out

Does your girlfriend look like the chick from M*A*S*H?
Dead ringer for Klinger with a thicker mustache?
When you’re at a get-together does everybody always ask?
Ain’t no Halloween party why’s she wearin’ that mask?
Does she got more Chins than the Chinese phone book?
Would you rather make out with a rusty fish hook?
Does she stick to linoleum when she squats?
Does she look pregnant although she’s not?
Did you first see your boyfriend on Cops?
Or at a Star Trek convention or on top?
Of your best friend or maybe at Wendy’s?
Workin’ third shift late New Year’s Eve?
Does he live under a bridge scare kids and kill squirrels?
Does he do kegstands until he hurls?
Could a blind man mistake his complexion for Braille?
Does he have time to sit around and wait for the mail?
Life is a game that no one wins
But you deserve a headstart the way your life’s goin’
So throw in the towel cause your life ain’t shit
No take that towel and hang yourself with it
Life’s short and hard like a body-building elf
So save the planet and kill yourself
If your feeling down-and-out with what your life is all about
Lift your head up and blow your brains out

Lift your head up high and blow your brains out
So take your life instead of taking it for granted
I’m thinking you should can it I think I’ll help you plan it
Live today like it’s gonna be your last
Hang out blow your mind have yourself a gas
I hope you take this the wrong way
And misinterpret what I say
Rewind and let me reverse it
Backwards like Judas Priest first did
Cause life is a game that no one wins
But you deserve a headstart the way your life’s goin’
So throw in the towel cause your life ain’t shit
No take that towel and hang yourself with it
Life’s short and hard like a body-building elf
So save the planet and kill yourself
If your feeling down-and-out with what your life is all about
Lift your head up and blow your brains out

Lift your head up high and blow your brains out

I WISH I WAS QUEER SO I COULD GET CHICKS

If your ass is a Chinese restaurant I’ll have the poo-poo platter

My friend Jerry Vandergrift kissed me in Home Ec. class
Later in the afternoon some jarheads in the locker room kicked my ass
I said guys I’m like you I like Monster Trucks too
Wanna see how many push-ups I can do?
I just wish I was queer so I could get chicks

Chicks dig guys that are
Queer guys that don’t dig
Chicks that don’t dig guys like me
See I’m not queer I’m too ugly

But if I were handsome just imagine how great it would be
Incognito as a gay though but not actually that way though pseudo homo phony
Maybe it’s a stupid theory or maybe just stupidity
But if I was a queerbee in the fashion industry
Scoring with a super model would be easy
Cause ‘super model’ means voluptuous but also is synonymous with ‘super dumb’
Ya see I’d be a good listener so she’d treat me like a sister and soon I’d become
That trusted friend that cares that rubs her back and braids her hair
No it wouldn’t take a week before I’m in her underwear
I wish I was queer so I could get chick

Chicks dig guys that are
Queer guys that don’t dig
Chicks that don’t dig guys like me
See I’m not queer I’m too ugly

Doesn’t matter what I’m packin’ in my denim it’s what’s in my genes
The only smoked meat the only sausage I would eat is made by Jimmy Dean
See I’m not to keen on the smell of Vaseline
No I’m not Princess Di and I don’t wanna be a queen
I just wish I was queer so I could get chicks

Anyway if I were gay I’d have to change my name to Dirk or Lewis
Hang out with my mom’s hair stylist his name is Kip he’s got a lisp he talks like this
And wear my mother’s lingerie learn the songs of Broadway
And appreciate Depeche Mode and avant garde ballet
I wish I was queer so I could get chicks

Chicks dig guys that are
Queer guys that don’t dig
Chicks dig guys that are
Queer guys that don’t dig
Chicks dig guys that are
Queer guys that don’t dig
Chicks that don’t dig guys like me
See I’m not queer I’m too ugly
And I don’t shave my heiny
Don’t shave my heiny
See I’m not queer I’m too ugly

IT’S TRICKY (Lyrics written by Run DMC)

This beat is my recital
I think it’s very vital
To rock a rhyme
That’s right on time
It’s tricky tricky yo here we go

It’s tricky to rock a rhyme
To rock a rhyme that’s right on time
It’s tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky

I met this little girlie, her hair was kind of curly
Went to her house to bust her out, I had to leave real early
These girls are really sleazy, all they just say is please me
Or spend some time and rock a rhyme, I said it’s not that easy

It’s tricky to rock a rhyme
To rock a rhyme that’s right on time
It’s tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky

In New York the people talk and try to make us rhyme
They really hawk, but we just walk, because we have no time
And in the city it’s a pity, ‘cause we just can’t hide
Tinted windows don’t mean nothing, they know who’s inside

It’s tricky to rock a rhyme
To rock a rhyme that’s right on time
It’s tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky

When I wake up people take up mostly all of my time
I’m not singing, phone keep ringing so I make up a rhyme
I’m not bragging, people nagging, ‘cause they think I’m a star
Always tearing what I’m wearing, I think they’re going too far
A girl named Tara follows Jared every gig we play
Evil dissed her and dismissed her, now she’s jocking Spanky
I ain’t lying, girls be crying, ‘cause we’re on TV
They even bother my poor father, ‘cause he’s down with me

It’s tricky to rock a rhyme
To rock a rhyme that’s right on time
It’s tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky

We are not dumb, we don’t use drugs, but you assume on your own
They offer coke and lots of dope, but we just leave it alone

It’s like that y’all, but we don’t quit
You keep on, rock shot, ‘cause this is it

BOOM

Yo Bloodhound Gang and Rob Van Winkle together on this track

Stop as we drop this bomb
Blow up this place like another Vietnam
Heavy like a Tyson blow to the dome
Back up son give me room give me room
To set it off like this don’t give it up
I’m all up in you till you just can’t get enough
Real hard to the bone you want more
I sneak up on you like a sniper at your back door
Phat flavor for your brain you know the time
So check the wrath it’s for real I’m gonna get mine
Roll up on you like Eastwood
Blowing up fifteens as I’m riding through your neighborhood
I spreads butter like Parkay
Real smooth with the flow and even when I parlay
Do what you feel and check the skill
I’m in your grill peep this I got the raw deal
In your Jeep Cherokee or Land Cruiser
When you’re rolling through the hood you want use a
Track like this all up in your eardrum
So check the E.Q. and let them speakers hum
And gets crazy like Prozac
Hype enough to start a party and illy as a heart attack
Round one round two knock out
Straight to your head like my round never lights out

Tah rah tah rah tah rah boom dee
Tah rah tah rah tah rah boom dee a

Jimmy Jimmy y’all Jimmy damn Jimmy yea
Gimme the mic Rob so I can take it away
Got more lines than the welfare office
Are you upset you’ll never get to be as clever as this?
Spreadin’ quicker than your mom have a feel but don’t cop it
Yea I stole your beat but that’s cause you dropped it
Crude as oil unrefined but slick
I’m gonna get you from behind like a gay convict
Cause my name ain’t Quasimodo but I still got a hunch
That like the Jim Jones cult I’ll take you out with one punch
You’re Spiro Agnew and I’m the Dick you answer to
Your sweating like a watermelon at a Baptist bar-b-que
Sneaking up like celery yeah I’m stalking
I squeak like Stephen Hawkins yeah but I’m walkin’
Nose to ground so this Bloodhound will sniff and follow it
I hope you choke on your pride when I make you swallow it
Screaming like a Mimi when you see me coming near you
Like a Kenny Loggins’ record no one’s ever gonna hear you
Like a game of hide and seek it’s all over if I see ya
Cause your yellower than tinkle and you’ll be running like diarrhea

Tah rah tah rah tah rah boom dee
Tah rah tah rah tah rah boom dee a

WHY’S EVERYBODY ALWAYS PICKIN’ ON ME

Why is everybody always pickin’ on me?

The morn’ that I was born my old man beat up the doctor
He clocked the doctor cause the doctor said I looked like Chewbacca
The doctor said sir you’re misled sir which infers you mistook me
I did not mean your lovely wife was shackin’ up with a wookie
What I mean is Wolverine is less hairy than your son
He’s looks like Chewie Baba Booey Baba Booey and a Hong Kong Phooey all in one
To put it mild your new-born child’s completely nutty fu-fu lookin’
I’d shove him back into the oven until he is done cookin’

But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause my fifteen-year-old cousin has less acne
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Ain’t brushed them teeth since 1983
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause you’ve got the grooming habits of a chimpanzee
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause you’re white but got a nose like Bill Cosby

Why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Always pickin’ and rippin’ apart poor ol’ Jimmy Pop Ali
I got a schnoz like the ‘Cos’ but there’s a lot more wrong with you
So back me up Bill yea and you’re ugly too
So what if I brush my teeth with a piece of cheddar cheese
Or wear a fish net shirt by Chams with my Sergio Valenti jeans
And my mirror never lies but it always verifies
I got more cheese and pepperoni than a homemade pizza pie
You compare me to a Monchichi but I don’t understand
Why I’m scorned like I’m deformed like the Elephant Man
And yea I took my mom to the prom but hey she asked me first
But at least this time I didn’t find my date in the back of a hearse
About as popular with the girls as Englebert Humperdinck
And that might be ‘cause everybody calls me Shrinky Dink
I know I’m known as Polaroid I’m not a total retard
It’s cause I’m done in sixty seconds and you’ll still want it enlarged

But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause ya wore velour flares until the late Eighties
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause you run like a girl and sit down to pee
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause your only school chum was the lunch lady
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
You took your mom to the prom but still got lucky

Like that episode where Gilligan gets sick of being teased
And he breaks into the Professor’s lab and makes some LSD
Peaks freaks and eats the Skipper’s brains then beats Ginger with coconuts
As Mr. Howell and Lovey burn alive inside of their grass hut
Oh he’ll kill again that Gilligan they should have let him be
And like a postal clerk I’ll go berserk if you don’t stop teasing me
See the trick is only pick on those that can’t do you no harm
Like the drummer from Def Leppard’s only got one arm
The drummer from Def Leppard’s only got one arm
The drummer from Def Leppard’s only got one arm
The drummer from Def Leppard’s only got one arm
The drummer from Def Leppard’s only got one arm
The drummer from Def Leppard’s only got one arm
The drummer from Def Leppard’s only got one arm
The drummer from Def Leppard’s only got one arm
The drummer from Def Leppard’s only got one arm

But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause my fifteen-year-old cousin has less acne
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Ain’t brushed them teeth since 1983
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause you’ve got the grooming habits of a chimpanzee
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause you’re white but got a nose like Bill Cosby
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause ya wore velour flares until the late Eighties
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause you run like a girl and sit down to pee
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause your only school chum was the lunch lady
But why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?
Cause no one likes you monkey boy

I HOPE U DIE

You must die I alone am best!

I hope ya flip some guy the bird
He cuts you off and you’re forced to swerve
In front of the Beatles’ tour bus
A Bookmobile and a Mack truck
Hauling hazardous biological waste
The light turns red you have no brakes
And “Hard Copy” gets it all on tape
So you can see the look on your face

Die Die Die Die Die Die Die
Die Die Die Die Die Die Die

I hope your Pinto begins to spin
Takes out a disabled Vietnam Veteran
Mows down a Nobel Peace Prize Winner
And maybe some orphans having Christmas dinner
Perhaps even the British Royal Family
And the Rabbi that’s clutching the bottle-fed puppy
And we can’t forget the newlyweds
And those Jerry’s Kids are as good as dead

I hope this helps to emphasize
I hope this helps to clarify
I hope you die

I hope your cellmate thinks he’s God
But C.N.N. refer to him as “Bowling Ball Bag Bob”
Serving time again for abuse of a corpse
Only this time the victim’s a Clydesdale horse
While he masturbates to photos of livestock
He does the “Silence of the Lambs” dance to Christian Rock
Eats feces and quotes from “Deliverance”
And fights with his imaginary playmate Vince

Die Die Die Die Die Die Die
Die Die Die Die Die Die Die

I hope he grins like Jack Nicholson
And forces you to play a game called “Balls On Chin”
And whatever happens next is all a blur
But you remember “fist” can be a verb
And when you finally regain consciousness
You’re bound and gagged in a wedding dress
And the prison guard looks the other way
Cause he’s the guy ya flipped the bird the other day

I hope this helps to emphasize
I hope this helps to clarify
I hope you die

I hope you die

THE INEVITABLE RETURN OF THE GREAT WHITE DOPE
(This music video is fucking hilarious! If you can find it, get it.)

”A” is for “Apple”
”B” is for “Balloons”
”C” is for “Crayons”
”D” is for “Drum”

Like my scrotum here it is in a nutshell

One thousand nine hundred and seventy-two
That’s the year I got here when my dear mother’s water blew
Not really realizing the prize that’s been begot to her
The bona fide lo-fi high-octane philosopher
Genius with a penis the few the proud the me
I liked me so much I had to buy the company
Soul for sale sold to Satan for a hell of a lotta luck
I’m hard to come by like a straight guy working at Starbucks
Thank the thinkers that think they thunk the thoughts that theorized
Idolized or despised bet I’m gettin’ recognized
Mount Rushmore it? No ignore it can’t rock with no big head
Half of the people want me half of the people want me dead
I am the Angel of Def with my rhymes against humanity
Teeter-tottering between brilliance and insanity
The one part the Fuehrer the one part the Pope
It’s the inevitable return baby of the Great White Dope

Conclusions you drew proportions you blew
Lost son of Iggy? False Bigger nose than Ziggy? True
Yes my name is Jimmy Pop no my pop’s name is Dick
Don’t admit to kick it slick you thick derelict critic
Put down for missed notes put up with misquotes
Don’t want the whole story? Should have bought the Cliff Notes
Like Fingerpainting 101 give me no credit for having class
One thumb on the pulse of the nation one thumb in your girlfriend’s ass
Written on written off scoff callin’ me a joke
I don’t think that I’m a sell-out but I do “Enjoy Coke!”
I struck gold but never took it for granite that’s how I planned it so can it
Around the planet fans demand it and you’ll never understand it
When I die no lie plan on mass pandemonium
They may display my brain in a pickle jar at the Smithsonian
The one part the Fuhrer the one part the Pope
It’s the inevitable return baby of the Great White Dope

One part the Fuhrer one part the Pope
The inevitable return of the Great White Dope
One part the Fuhrer one part the Pope
The inevitable return of the Great White Dope
One part the Fuhrer one part the Pope
The inevitable return of the Great White Dope
One part the Fuhrer one part the Pope
The inevitable return of the Great White Dope

Great White Dope
Great White Dope
Great White Dope
Great White Dope

THREE POINT ONE FOUR

My last girlfriend didn’t like me thought she might be
Most likely a dyke she just didn’t excite me
Lefty? Yeah but that was alright
She was hotter than the sun but she just wasn’t that bright
My mistake she was more flaky than a leper colony
I think a wooden clothespin would have been much better company
Ass like a donkey acting funky gave her “L” now she’s a flunky
So my love for her died quicker than a batch of Sea Monkeys
Early bird gets the worm spread your legs or spread the word
So what if I’m not the smartest peanut in the turd
I’m white which goes with everything but I can come in any color
And I’m looking for the kind of girl that reminds me of my mother
But it’s hard to find a girl with a viper tattooed on her tushy
And how many girls do you know that can play the harmonica with their pussies?
Like em’ easy and hot and sweet like a Rice Krispie Treat gee
You know what I really want in a girl? Me.

I need to find a new vagina
Any kind of new vagina
It’s hard to rhyme a word like vagina
Calvin Klein? Kind of North Carolina

Women are like dog doo hear me through don’t interrupt
It’s just the older that they are the easier they get to pick-up
I’d fill the generation gap clean the cobwebs from her rafters
Old hens would rather put out than be put out to the pasture
No age just ain’t a gauge I like my girls like my cheese
Preferably for me fat-free American singles only
I want my next chick anorexic the winner is the thinner
Won’t have to take her skinny ass out to a fancy dinner
Like Sizzler she got a beef we’ll chew the fat
If I forget to put the seat up I can put up with her crap
Let her lash out and crack the whip but not in bed I don’t play rough
No I can’t be tied down with a girl that wants me tied up
Just independent like NOFX smart like Janeane Garafolo
She’d use big words to make fun of me so that I would never know
Bestow upon me all her wisdom of the Dewey Decimal System gee
You know what I really want in a girl? Me.

I need to find a new vagina
Any kind of new vagina
It’s hard to rhyme a word like vagina
Kevin Klein? Kind of South Carolina

Vagina vagina vagina vagina
Vagina vagina vagina vagina

THE BALLAD OF CHASEY LAIN
(This music video is also great. Watch the guys make asses out of themselves!)

Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to explain
I’m your biggest fan
I just wanted to ask
Could I eat your ass?
Write back as soon as you can

You’ve had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I’ve had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You’ve had a lotta dick Chasey But you ain’t had mine

Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to complain
Ya never wrote me back
How could I ever eat
Your ass when ya treat
Your biggest fan like that?

You’ve had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I’ve had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You’ve had a lotta dick Chasey
But you ain’t had mine

Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to constrain
This letter is my last
As your biggest fan
I must demand
You let me eat your ass

You’ve had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I’ve had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You’ve had a lotta dick Chasey
But you ain’t had mine

P.S.
Mom and Dad this is Chasey
Chasey this is my mom and dad
Now show ‘em them titties
Now show ‘em them titties
P.S.
Mom and Dad this is Chasey
Chasey this is my mom and dad
Now show ‘em them titties
Now show ‘em them titties

Would ya fuck me for blow?

A LAP DANCE IS SO MUCH BETTER

(Spoken) I was lonelier than Kunta Kinte at a Merle Haggard concert that night I strolled on into Uncle Limpy’s Hump Palace lookin’ for love. It had been a while. In fact, three hundred and sixty-five had come and went since that midnight run haulin’ hog to Shakey Town on I-10. I had picked up this hitchhiker that was sweatin’ gallons through a pair of Daisy Duke cut-offs and one of those Fruit Of The Loom tank-tops. Well, that night I lost myself to ruby red lips, milky white skin and baby blue eyes. Name was Russell.

Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’
Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’
Well I find it’s quite a thrill
When she grinds me against her will
Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’

(Spoken) Well, faster than you can say, “shallow grave”, this pretty little thing come up to me and starts kneadin’ my balls like hard-boiled eggs in a tube sock. Said her name was Bambi and I said, “Well that’s a coincidence darlin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about skinnin’ you like a deer.” Well she smiled, had about as much teeth as a Jack-O-Lantern, and I went on to tell her how I would wear her face like a mask as I do my little kooky dance. And then she told me to shush. I guess she could sense my desperation. ‘Course, it’s hard to hide a hard-on when you’re dressed like Minnie Pearl.

Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’
Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’
Well I find it’s quite a thrill
When she grinds me against her will
Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’

(Spoken) So, Bambi’s goin’ on about how she can make all my fantasies come true. So I says, “Even this one I have where Jesus Christ is jackhammering Mickey Mouse in the doo-doo hole with a lawn dart as Garth Brooks gives birth to something resembling a cheddar cheese log with almonds on Santa Claus’s tummy-tum?” Well, ten beers, twenty minutes and thirty dollars later I’m parkin’ the beef bus in tuna town if you know what I mean. Got to nail her back at her trailer. Heh. That rhymes. I have to admit it was even more of a turn-on when I found out she was doin’ me to buy baby formula.

Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’
Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’
Well I find it’s quite a thrill
When she grinds me against her will
Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’

(Spoken) Day or so had passed when I popped the clutch, gave the tranny a spin and slid on into The Stinky Pinky Gulp N’ Guzzle Big Rig Snooze-A-Stop. There I was browsin’ through the latest issue of “Throb”, when I saw Bambi starin’ at me from the back of a milk carton. Well, my heart just dropped. So, I decided to do what any good Christian would. You can not imagine how difficult it is to hold a half gallon of moo juice and polish the one-eyed gopher when your doin’ seventy-five in an eighteen-wheeler. I never thought missing children could be so sexy. Did I say that out loud?

Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’
Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’
Well I find it’s quite a thrill
When she grinds me against her will
Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin’

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