Hey.... Hey.... Hey....nnYou did it, you got itnYou wowed the worldnOf casting agents and cowgirlsnFess up you're dressed up to kill yourselfnnGirl, I'm a walking plane-crash to your moms and dadsnOstentatious and crass pulling the gauzenOff your scabsnBitch, I negate the myth of the 'great black boyfriend'nIn the Polaroid at the get-togethernWearing a corduroy vest-sweaternSo don't get that engagement ring engravednCuz before we met you thoughtnthat hoodrats laid eggsnAnd that rappers were just sky-pirates with peg legsnBut I kick it with you simply for the shits and giggles, playful innuendo’snYou thought,nHe's just an uber-dred for the federal fiscal capnBut after brunch, you'll needn2 Sudafed's and a disco napnAfter I drain your insides with a crazy strawnYou ain't my baby doll-nCuz Nigga you reek of coffee shop blendnMy body's a lollypop that caters to thenmiss polyglot’s whimnWith addictive agents that outweigh oxycodonesnAnd our phobias perfectly fitnIt takes a quirky chick with curvy hips to petrify this working-stiffnnYou did it, you got itnYou wowed the worldnOf casting agents and cowgirlsnFess up you're dressed up to kill yourselfnWhile I'm still on the shelfnThey want an everyman milking the oldest gagsnSpilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flagsnThey want an everyman milking the oldest gagsnSpilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flagsnnI'll be today's avatar of the prefabnThen end up a child star in rehabnIt's like a bed-and-breakfastnI'm sending a text message on my key padnSaying, I have no more to saynto me ex-manager(slash)sea hag divorceenExcept eat shit and dienMy daily commute ends with a fender-bendernCuz no one acknowledges my ten-year tenurenI've got the know-how the thrill your scenenBut they want someone lowbrow, a philistinenWith iron-on irony for Viacom's white honkiesnThey'll send you a girl wearingntight thongs under nylon gi'snLets all hit!nBut I'm not for the gaudy gangbangnthe thought of it turns my member to a soggy plantainnand shit, I get off on news leadsnand you pet mouse meat,nset and poised with sex toysnin your penthouse suite believing you're Lou ReednI spit used reeds out the wet mouthpiecenEven when sex appeal is taboo,nelectric bills are past duenMy head is clear of engineered, election year snafunnYou did it, you got itnYou wowed the worldnOf casting agents and cowgirlsnFess up you're dressed up to kill yourselfnWhile I'm still on the shelfnThey want an everyman milking the oldest gagsnSpilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flagsnThey want an everyman milking the oldest gagsnSpilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flagsnnI used to say, fuck itnWouldn't placate the functionariesnToo busy making playdates with buxom secretariesnBut I hope that my homies don't laugh,nmy choreographed dance stepsnAre a little effeminate for a sociopathnWe've been airbrushed so much we look like a claymation zoonI'm a voice-over on your Playstation 2nBut in my hey-day my ethical fibernwould turn stages into firewoodnnYou did it, you got itnYou wowed the worldnOf casting agents and cowgirlsnFess up you're dressed up to kill yourselfnWhile I'm still on the shelfnThey want an everyman milking the oldest gagsnSpilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flagsnThey want an everyman milking the oldest gagsnSpilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flagsn