Mantis

I can hear those babies crying
You've got to know I'm trying and trying!
Put the pump to the nip, my baby won't take a sip
With my fist to the skies, I curse these fucking man-tits!

Why did god give men nipples?
You'd think it'd be all so simple, but I can't get just a dribble?
What the hell is the the point
Of these over-sized pimples?

I couldn't be any clearer than crystal
Staring in the mirror at two blank pistols
I wish they'd just blast off like missiles
There ain't no cream in this crop, so I've got issues

These tweezers have the meanest crunch
I've even tried a penis pump
But the wells are dry they fail to supply the nectar
Baby needs for lunch

It's not like I need breed and such
Just want some double-D's to touch
If God would grant my wish
I'd plant a kiss on each
And it'd mean so much

I'm praying like a mantis
Shooting blanks from these poor excuses for "man cannons"
My seed is crying and I can't stand it
My lady's away, so I can't abandon it

There's only so much Similac in the cabinet
I tried the cat, but she ain't having it
I'm running out of options, should of gone with adoption
But it's too late now

I can hear those babies crying
You've got to know I'm trying and trying!
Put the pump to the nip, my baby won't take a sip
With my fist to the skies, I curse these fucking man-tits!

Let's say that I worked for Gerber, would you consider me a pervert?
Investing funds in research
Inventing guns that could squeeze spurts
Out of my teats with fervor

If there could only be a merger that would help me feed and nurture
I wouldn't need a curse word
I'd put baby's thirst first
Milky-Way cradling until the curds burst

Ain't nothing wrong with a little man lactation
Let's gene splice this adaptation
I need more than a apparatus
Attached to back fasteners
To satisfy my aspirations

My emotions are all glass-cased in
A sealed bottle with an expiration
It's my guilt-filled plan
To become 2% milkman, the rest fascination

This may come as a shocker
But oh, what I could do with some equal knockers
I'd be the who's who among a group of imposters
More famous than Jack Byrnes from Meet the Fockers

Can't a man just have turns to feed the foster... Kid
Wasn't planned sure, but neither was me the father
I'm not try to preach a gospel
My needs aren't hostile
I just agree that it's possible!

I can hear those babies crying
You've got to know I'm trying and trying!
Put the pump to the nip, my baby won't take a sip
With my fist to the skies, I curse these fucking man-tits!