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