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strange u - bullet proof mustache lyrics
[kashmere]
bulletproof mustache..
bulletproof mustache..
a yo, twelve little simians jumping upon the bed
one fell the fuck off, landed and b-mped his head
his mother called the doctor and this is what he said:
“smoke dust till the ambulance runs a red”
pandora, opening up the d-mned box
dash a whale in the ocean like john hanc-ck
d-mn, when he’s finished grabbing his b-lls
he sat with half a gram and some british amateur porn
he should really stand up, be a man and spark a nation
but his d-ck was titanium alloy with armor plating
sane, remained in the seat calm and patient
trying to think about sandwiches, rats, sarah palin
on the street, rocking a dark halo
pay attention, he’s sk!llfully dodging a sharknado
they say he’s quite pathetic for causing mega harm
but his brain is cybernetic like schwarzenegger’s arm
the sk!ll of the man with golden meatb-lls
who’ll pop the eyes out of your skull like total recall
the grand sapient tasting the canned flavoring
iller than jean claude van punching a d-mn alien
yo, you tried shooting at the bullet proof mustache
the bullet ricochet then it rushed back so fuck that
in the club, rest with my three uzis
chirping a chick up in the bar with three b–bies
hit the stage to rock a mean crowd
with a tache to make burt reynolds seem proud -wow!-
got them like “wow!”
he’s got a bullet proof mustache
[lee scott]
they planned to invade this cess pool planet in ’93
but landed to find me ‘long tall sally’ on practicing thai chi
calm like a hindu cow
look what you’ve got yourselves into now
i train for hours in the rain
picturesque mountainous terrain
sixty reps in a set, smoking cigarettes in a vest
with a boulder on my pigeon chest
left the whole city in a mess
to save a single damsel in distress
necking whisky on me bill depressed
angry at god but i’m still the best man for the job
fuck a presidents blessing
i win quiet wars with deafening weapons
you’ll die before the lion roars
fuck the credits i don’t like awards
i save us all while you shine your swords
teabag the mother ship with fire b-lls
then hit the ground like a crash landin’
i’m the last man standing like van damme dancin’
raise the weapon, teach the alien race a lesson
jesse ventura ‘tache circa 87
swinging a bat like freddie flintoff
braindead, lawn mowing limbs off
malnourished rambo, karate chopping a mango
into equal portions to feed the orphans
you want your planet saving just ask
the man with the bullet proof mustache
you want your planet saving just ask
the bullet proof mustache!
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