Fishy Face

My love jet was supposed to be fuel efficient

But everybody knows that is just a boobish misprint

On the brochure; Oh sure, such a hubris is fit

To procure your pure, yeah, prudish princess

Back when I put my reproductive glands in a plaster cast

Thinkin' that my Woody Woodpecker would always flabbergast

But my head trouser snake is more like a pamper asp

And I never had the candor to ask, "Am I really all that?" (Uh...)

Way before I ever got to pinch the folds

Of the hottest chicks, comic strips were like ninja scrolls

And my heart was an iridescent listless cove

Yeah, I'm echoing the rhetoric of pimpin' hoes

From the homies sipping on a Michelob

Yeah, fuck them niggas, they can all just lick my chode

Because I speak in amorous whispers that wisp her lobe

I said I speak in amorous whispers that wisp her lobe

But in order for a lady to ever admit my bulge

I need an entrance fee or an encryption code

Should I start cookin' crack on the kitchen stove?

Actin' like a superfly stupefied, wearing an Egyptian robe

Or just join a swing band, get a wingman

Maybe I can pull girls with the old pick-and-roll

I need a beauty queen from movie scenes to kiss this toad

Not my goofy schemes resulting in me getting a fist to the nose

Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face

When I'm throwin' "what ifs" at your puffed lips

Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face

When my sky's beneath your shoes

Don't go, no, die slowly, cuz we don't get along no more

And so I figured I could draft a piece of fiction

While you were waiting for food at the pizza kitchen

Just romanticize the idea of being grief-stricken

Yeah, all grumpy and bummy and all fleabitten

And now your sex drive is revved up within each piston

I found the perfect way for a nigga to meet chickens

I'm now the persnickety palindrome piecer

Her fidgety xylophone seeker

Suffering in a used car, FUBAR, with my teeth missin'

And now I bone a range of after-party harlots

Kickin' this old game like an Atari cartridge

Just from freelancing with a socialist tribune, I get poon

And give dick to who wants the goo gob

And diss Lou Dobbs and Brit Hume like

Smooches, kisses, smooches, kisses

Smooches, kisses, smooches, kisses

Smooches, kisses, smooches, kisses

Smooches, kisses, smooches, smooches

Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face

When I'm throwin' "what ifs" at your puffed lips

Hey, hey, hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face

When my sky's beneath your shoes

Come on now, no one thinks that real niggas love rappin' nerdy

Or go to art exhibits and museums and view taxidermy

So go date a slew of tax attorneys

Who have logistically mapped their thirties

But I put them fools on padded gurneys

I hit it when your ass was fat and perky

But now you look like a Susan Sarandon doll

And I'm as volatile as a human cannon ball

I still rap like it's commentary for a horse race

With the political impetus of John Kerry's court case

For a vote recount--I got O.G. clout

I tell hoes, "Peace out" when they become bitter Strawberry Shortcakes

I move on, sleep on a futon arbitrarily in a storage space

From now on I solemnly make a pledge

To move her in just cause she's great in bed

And grate hearts up on a serrated edge

And break a year lease

While screamin' in your ear piece

Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face

When I'm throwin' "what ifs" at your puffed lips

Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face

When my sky's beneath your shoes

Don't go, no, die slowly, cuz we don't get along no more. (x6)