Uniform On

She said she wants to fuck me with my uniform on
She grabbed me by the bat, now it's going, going, gone
I never finish sex 'cause I'm so juiced out
But she nutted three times then we bashed then I bounced

I reside in Blackhawk in a big fucking house
My community is gated 'cause I don't strike out
Got a room with a chair
Got a room with a couch
Got a framed photograph of the time I met Alf

You know I'm not a hamburger but they call me Big Mac
Got the one ton Jimmy and the itty-bitty sack
My ball shrinky-dinky 'cause the 'roids so strong
But it makes the aforementioned Jimmy-jam look long

The name is Mark, and no I'm not Mork
And yes, I eat pork 'cause it's tasty on my fork
And no, I'm not a jork but I'll jork it out the pork
'Cause Noah should have had the Bash Brothers on his ork

We are the perfect pair to start a new society
Filled with home-run hitting gold glove goliathes

Here's what I found on the web for what is the plural of goliath? Goliaths

Oh, we're goliaths, baby boy
Kirk Gibson's a pariah, baby boy
I work out with a tire, baby boy
I wonder who can lift it higher, baby boy

Aaaah! Lift that tire, bitch
Put your back in it and lift it higher, bitch
Stab that needle in my ass 'til I am rich
Make me a god with the chemical sciences

Aaaah! Baseball, baseball, he-man hit the baseball
By the power of greyskull
Rip the skin off and eat the brains out the baseball
Gonna run a motherfucking train on the baseball

Aaaah! Don't tell me to be fucking calm
Whip out my dick on the Jumbotron
Whip out my balls cause my muscles so strong
Now the pain's so bad that my motherfucking heart stop



Credits
Writer(s): Akiva Schaffer, Andrew Samberg, Drew Campbell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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