MC Paul Barman – MTV Get Off The Air, Pt. 2 lyrics

A little goon in a locker room rat tails the octoroon
He'll be drinking vodka soon and his big brothers are frat guys
Whose iqs lose to their fitted baseball hat size
Smirkin' jocks with hackysacks in Birkenstock's and khaki slacks
I'm the hypest lyricist while they're like, "What type of beer is this?"

The liquid is ubiquitous and has such a hold
On all the strata, it's just got to be government controlled
Behind the bottle and the throne sits an unknown man wiser
And bigger for the liquor store the number one franchiser
Perhaps, George Bush and his sons are relatives of Anheuser

I wanted to get in a pooper hole one day
So I invited girls over on Super Bowl Sunday
Only one showed up, Princess Superstar

Thanks for inviting me over let me look around the bed post
Bad dill folds? Back to back, black dildos nice kit kudos
Pass the cool ranch doritos, I love nachos put on Fat Joe
Naw, that really sucks, let's put on the Beatles

Yo, let's check the half time show
I hope it's Michael Jackson singin' 'Satisfaction' with Hanson
Or Luther Van dross in a sparkling costume with big pants dancin'
Or maybe I saw that in a Bud Light commercial

Speakin' of which, give this bitch a drink quick to wet my lips
You got enough cheddar lyin' around this place
To fix up my tits as if I need it

Conchetta please, If you see any cheddar
It's cheddar cheese, I'm easily great
I don't need to be in some sort of Ken Kasey state
To create something you can appreciate

Who are you talkin' to?
Makin' you draw conclusions
And superficial distinctions make you go sacreu bleu

I can speak French too, suck my nuh, nuh
French my c*** comprande voux?
Look Pepe Le Pieux let's cut to the, De nu mon?
You wanna fuck me, I wanna fuck you, so it's on

Can I chime in? I'll still be rhymin', when I'm in your hymen
I radiate like it was '88 and I'm searching for my lady mate
I'm a hunter gatherer, a cunter latherer
My dandy voice makes the most anti choice granny's panties moist

I do the new when the tried and true fails
Plus, I'm lookin' fly in my sky blue tails
Now, peel off your tube top so
I can feel your boobs flop on my lubed c***

Socks up to your calf like a chick from the craff?
I wanna put on a serrated condom and saw you in half
My knees are weak, I need knee pads you fuck me blind
I can't see, dag

Run me a hot bath add the Epsom salt
Soak my lower half in your Mortal Combat cocktail sauce
Let me head south put it in my mouth 'cause I like the taste

When I burst in your face
I'll invade your personal space
I'm like Chase, stick your card in and out
Thanks see, look how much stacks of cream are coming out

I removed her sanitary napkin with my teeth
And there was a planetary backspin underneath
I faced her wound, let's do a pap smear with a taster spoon
You can sleep on the guest cot, I'll sleep in the wet spot

I'll be your boyfriend, smooch on your pooper hole
All through the Super Bowl
Your man doesn't even miss you glued to the boob tube
Watchya gonna do dude?

I woke up sticky and quickly applied a temporary tattoo to a hickey
Went to salt and shake her awake
With orange juice, a straw and coffee cake
After we had a bite, we pushed the canoe in the lake

You don't paddle right, look, a shooting star
It's a fuckin' satellite
Lady, one more complaint
And I'll shove a rape whistle up the Mrs. Va J J

What'd you say?
Listen Slim Shay day
Tell Dre he better fuckin' pay may

Your talents are bite size it's no surprise you rhyme with white guys
I jumped in the water, what did I want a girlfriend for?
Just like you, you jizz on your floor
I don't want sweet potatoes anymore, I didn't even leave her an oar
Did a medium crawl stroke back to shore

Who's next to flirt with this exhausting extrovert? I parted some
Guess who left me dry long johns, Uncle Ralph Mcdaniel's
He said, what's up Paul Nathaniel Barman
Let's get mtv off the air I deserve my own channel

I'm in love
I'm in love