Casting Agents And Cowgirls

Hey

Hey

Hey

Hey

You did it, you got it, you wowed the world

Of casting agents and cowgirls

Fess up, you're dressed up to kill yourself

Oh, yeah

Girl, I'm a walking plane-crash to your moms and dads

Ostentatious and crass pulling the gauze off your scabs

********, I negate the myth of the 'great black boyfriend'

In the Polaroid at the get-together

Wearing a corduroy vest-sweater

So don't get that engagement ring engraved

'Cause before we met you thought that hood rats laid eggs

And that rappers were just sky pirates with peg legs

But I kick it with you simply for the ********ts and giggles, playful innuendos

You thought, "he's just an uber-dred for the federal fiscal cap"

But after brunch, you'll need

Two Sudafeds and a disco nap

After I drain your insides with a crazy straw

You ain't my baby-doll

"'Cause ******** you reek of coffee-shop blend"

My baby's a lollipop that caters to the miss polyglot's whim"

With addictive agents that outweigh Oxycontins

And our phobias perfectly fit

It takes a quirky chick with curvy hips to petrify this working-stiff

[Chorus:]

You did it, you got it

You wowed the world

Of casting agents and cowgirls

Fess up you're dressed up to kill yourself

While I'm still on the shelf

They want an everyman milking the oldest gags

Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flags

They want an everyman milking the oldest gags

Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flags

I'll be today's avatar of the pre-fad

Then end up a child star in rehab

It's like a bed-and-breakfast

I'm sending a text message on my keypad

Saying "I have no more to say to my ex-manager/sea hag divorcee

except eat ********t and die"

My daily commute ends with a fender-bender

'Cause no one acknowledges my ten-year tenure

I've got the know-how the thrill your scene

But they want someone lowbrow, a philistine

With iron-on irony for Viacom's white honkies

They'll send you a girl wearing tight thongs under nylon gis

"Let's all hit"

But I'm not for the gaudy ********

the thought of it turns my member to a soggy plantain

and ********t, I get off on news leads

and your pet mouse meat,

set and poised with sex toys

in your penthouse suite believing you're Lou Reed

I spit used reeds out the wet mouthpiece

Even when sex appeal is taboo,

electric bills are past due

My head is clear of engineered, election-year snafu

[Chorus]

I used to say, ******** it

Wouldn't placate the functionaries

Too busy making play-dates with buxom secretaries

But I hope that my homies don't laugh,

my choreographed dance steps

Are a little effeminate for a sociopath

We've been airbrushed so much we look like a claymation zoo

I'm a voice-over on your PlayStation 2

But in my hey-day, my ethical fiber

would turn stages into firewood

[Chorus]