Never Let The Bad Team Tell You What Yr Living For! Talkshow Boy

[Chorus]
I'm gonna make it with the girl of my dreams
M-m-my body is a bean-bag busting at the seams
Ca-ca-ca-case in point: et cetera dash
Never let ellipses ampersand hash, g-g-g-go!

[Post-Chorus]
Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go

[Verse 1]
I don't wanna be the one who never wanna chuck it atcha
Always on the megaphone to holler to the kittykatcher
Take you to the top of the sycamore slip
Where the haters and the imitators never want to venture
Where the beat goes on like a bigger, better drum
Going bounce, bounce, bounce, cali-rockin' to the radio
The summer, super shakey, and the sick guitar shred
With the metal metamorphosis and maximum dread
Che-che-che-check your head, is your head on screwed?
Is it tighter than vagina with the maximum rude?
Is the rapper done dinner with the ragga jay flow?
And the maximum saxophone rock and roll
It's the bourgeois taste, it's the peter pan syndrome!
Twenty-seven years in a public prison!
Cap a taste-test to the lick a little spoon
With the radio rhythm in the public room!
Dog, get up, get up, dog, down, dog, down!
God dammit! When the demon never make round frown!
Calm down, get widdit! Get d-d-d-down to the dance floor!
Never let the bad team tell you what you're living for!