Retard-O-Bot
Retard-O-Bot - Piggly Wiggly lyrics
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Gotta go slow Gotta go slow Pig without wings Is just another pig And a prick that's not hard Is just another dick Open real wide and in goes my fist Wasn't that just so delicious Peddling backwards, great exercise Monopoly's a way of life for some That perfect car, the house, the pool That fucking girl from high school The spoon, the spoon Oh, fucking christ, the spoon Cutting lines Oh god, it's finally time to party Dirty (x8) Delivery, I'm fucking starving Sounds good, let's get it going Bury me up bread and a rocket Expect no delays Topsy turvy Driving on the curvy To the sounds of Mail boxes knocking over Help my aim, oh please In a search, maybe Don't tell anyone where I be My sticky situations Hiding, I'm flying I keep them From you Fucking motherfuckers Fucking motherfucker A pig without wings Is just another pig And a prick that's not hard Is just another dick Nickles and dimes and pennies count That's like sixteen cents to go toward a blow job Know you've all been there before, Fell face first, god makes you fall from grace Sick, up late, don't call me names What's all this shit on my face The spoon, the spoon Oh, fucking christ, the spoon Cutting lines Oh god, it's finally time to party Dirty (x8) Delivery, I'm fucking starving Sounds good, let's get it going Bury me up bread and a rocket Expect no delays Topsy turvy Driving on the curvy To the sounds of Mail boxes knocking over Help my aim, oh please In a search, maybe Don't tell anyone where I be My sticky situations Hiding, I'm flying I keep them From you Fucking motherfuckers Fucking motherfucker A pig without wings Is just another pig And a prick that's not hard Is just another dick Smiling kids make me think Do I have the right To swing from the monkey bars Candy hearts and lucky charms Where the fuck is my delivery At the playground going for a swim in my cereal The spoon, the spoon Oh, fucking christ, the spoon Cutting lines Oh god, it's finally time to party Dirty (x8) Delivery, I'm fucking starving Sounds good, let's get it going Bury me up bread and a rocket Expect no delays Topsy turvy Driving on the curvy To the sounds of Mail boxes knocking over Help my aim, oh please In a search, maybe Don't tell anyone where I be My sticky situations Hiding, I'm flying I keep them From you Fucking motherfuckers