Текст Bo Burnham – Words, Words, Words
Текст:
I’m a feminine Eminem, a slim shady lady
But nice ’cause I texted Haiti
90 lady cops on the road and I’m arrested for doing 80
Like hamlet, all about «words, words, words»
I’m a gay sea otter
I blow other dudes out of the water
I’m the man muffin, divin’, muffin
Cold and fly like an arctic puffin
Puffin whacky tobaccy
Hating other rappers like I’m Helga Pataki
And I’ve been rocking this mic before electricity
Way back in 1000 BCE — that’s before the common era {era era era} (era era)
I can’t be stopped, flow so sick that it should be mopped up
Chick’s got a Dixie cup, I gotta dick full of helium, I’ll fuck you up
A boy, a girl, a middle aged bitch, botox in the third person
I give the perspective a switch and Bo talks in the third person
Just relax, if you wanna know me, here’s two facts
I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
Hungry hungry hypocrite
I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
Met a girl named Macy had sex with her all day
But she was dyslexic, so I ended up doing the YMCA
We balling, Asian, Wii bowling, prostate cancer semi-colon
Find that hole like I’m Stephen Hawking
Atticus Finch, killing, mocking
Cry like a child would, you raped my childhood
Just stroll in, roll in your pole into Rolie Polie Olie’s colon
To relax my mind I take a walk by the clock and I pass the time and
Rhyming, mathematical timing, syntax impacts the intact hymen
Fucked a girl in an apple orchard, then came in cider
inside her
I thought AIDS was a butt virus like conjunction junction conjunctivitis
I spit gold bars ’cause I was molested by my uncle Midas
Gay dads blow pops, another sucker
Oedipus was the first motherfucker
I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
Hungry hungry hypocrite
I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
We the people of the USA
Jose, we’re not talking to you, esé
We got a border in order to keep you out
It’s what my NYU essay’s about
‘Cause we’re, xenophobic warrior princess
Molested by my uncle Sam, is that incest?
«I WANT YOU» to smell my finger
Does my nephew’s scent still linger?
South of queers, north of hell
The queer ones suck and the brown ones smell
We guard the border and we guard it well
But some slip through the cracks of the liberty bell
Did I say liberty? I meant taco, paco, hey you better let that rock go
‘Cause in real life Goliath wins
And then sells all the silk that the widow spins
One more time
I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
Hungry hungry hypocrite
I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
Bitches and hoes, Bo’s hoes, oh, bitches and hoes, bitches, hoes
Bitches and hoes don’t exist because the hoes know Bo’s a feminist
Bitches and hoes don’t exist because the hoes know Bo’s a feminist
So take off your bras and burn ’em or you can let me burn ’em
Take off your bras and burn ’em, or you can let Bo Burnham burn ’em
Take off your bras and burn ’em, you can let me burn ’em
Take off your bras and burn ’em, (burn ’em) you can let Bo Burnham burn ’em
Альбом
Bo Burnham – Bo Burnham - Words Words Words
