Durtee Boi

Lighten up, Saddlebags - hack up a phlegm gem
Plaster a Rembrandt, practice your back hand
Master the art of saving. You need a saving throw
Back to the drawing board, act like nobody knows
Never mind the fact that everybody saw you botch it
Consider retirement; refine the art of bocce
Poppy out the wazoo, suppository dropping out
No longer so taut and malleable in the brown mouth
How bout a couple bouts of self hatred
Ground down to a drowned out refrain
Steady on the teeter totter in between the ovulation
And the eagerness for copulation without a parade
She looking like she wanna pump out a platoon of me
Five pounds of gratuity. One more? Make it two or three
One house full of puberty after a very drawn out commitment
Until he tell em get the fuck out the hizzouse
One less mouth to feed, one less lousy Dad
If I keep the divining rod away from pastures of ass
I feel the freak within me pressing up against the glass
Scribbling nasty pictures till the teacher see him after class

Ya dirty boy

Dirty in the grift, flirty birdy caught a slip
Awful wordy, heard a lot of surly falling out the slit
(Shots fired)
Calling early, twirling dollies off the rip
Surely, tawdry little twists in all this ostentatiousness
Is missing cursive and a lisp, mercy turning off a bit
All her hurly burly, hot and slurry talking got me pissed
(10-51)
Toss a jury burning coffee, drop the fifth
Terse and bawdry deposition. God, it's awesome, ain't it kids?
Listen, purely for the gift, QWERTY firmly got a grip on
All the wordy cursing; caught a flurry shot across the lips
(Order in the court!)
Hostile fury learning frosty, cautious quips
Nervous gawking at the Mrs oughta toxicate the bitch
Get her blurry on the tips her attorney often slips
Into herky-jerky pauses lurking all around the script
(Objection!)
Doff your burden, verdict lofty, call it quits
Turn a loss into a win and all they got to say is this:
You such a dirty boy



Credits
Writer(s): Robert Orr
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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