MUSIC - MP3s - Lyrics

The Dozens

Yo, Professor Puff'n'stuff.
Hit me with some beatbox

Ah, yah. That's right.
This one's for all the naysayers and dreamslayers,
who told the Hawk-man it couldn't be done.
Listen up.

Your Momma is so fat, she's got a trash bag for a sock,
she's so hairy, she looks like she's got Don King in a headlock.
Your Momma is so ugly that her dog won't give her fleas,
you could stick her face in dough and make monster cookies.

Your momma's so damn big, her ass affects the tide,
she's so huge that on their honeymoon, your dad hired a guide.
Your momma's so damn poor, she can't even afford lice,
yo, the bitch got married 'cuz she needed rice.

Ha, ha, ha. That's right.
I'm talking about your damn momma.
She's such a skank the other night I had to park my dick on her ass,
and wait an hour to get in.


Yo, check this out.

Your momma is so stank she's like hot ass on a cold day,
she's so poor that at McDonald's, she puts food on layaway.
Your momma is like lettuce, a quarter a head,
when I said "Act your age" the bitch dropped dead.

Your momma's so fat, when she hauls ass it takes two trips,
someone tried to kiss her, but he couldn't find her lips.
Your momma's so damn ugly, Michael Jackson wants her bones,
she's such a fucking skank, she'll give you V.D. through the phone.

Ha, ha, ha. That's right.
What you got to say about it, bitch?