Do the Wop

I gotta act like David Ruffin Cuz y'all be softer than Egg McMuffins Plus you're never really saying nothing You don't admit to any claim jumping This is why I have to pay these munchkins to Clobber goons in locker rooms with waterballons And sashay with gumption The heir apparent of the feral lads in American Apparel ads Rises from the glow of the back-lit keys The html formatted speak'n'spell door magnet Looks futuristic and Japanese But my onomonopoetic Somalia surname Makes me look four-legged like I got fur, fangs And a diamond encrusted gun butt in my mud hut You've hyphenated my dance reprise yet still… Me, I do the wop with no dance license Me, I do the wop with no dance license Me, I do the wop with no dance license And I ain't got legible handwriting How the fuck you talk with a cockney patois When you come from the Rockies have thawed Plus you got all our parties back logged When we left everybody slack-jawed I'm aware you step softly on padded paw But I know you gave your acorns to gay porn from the waveform Of your raunchy rap slaw The oxymoronic tinged band of Guatemalan twins Isn't worth opening my polka dot lids The water-resistant faux-hawk gets road blocked By the color copies of my MOCA pop quiz But my circuit-bent key tar and icky lens cameraman The fact that I'm on the shitty end of this ampersand Makes me what to do the Roger Rabbit in a bomber jacket To the polyrhythm of the soda pop fizz cuz still Me, I do the wop with no dance license Me, I do the wop with no dance license Me, I do the wop with no dance license And I ain't got legible handwriting So y'all can't bite Show them shoes a bit Prick those chubby digits Show them shoes a bit Prick those chubby digits Salvaged from the mouths of motors Plucked from legislative branches To enact these native dances Sooth me babbling brook I'm shell shocked by the blaring red phone Name checked on the sterling headstone How can I sell this high-top fade? Oh wee, throw the grappling hook