At home, Friday night, and I'm checkin' out the Playboy Channel

But it might be too much for me to handle

‘Cause I start to drool as she's gettin' undressed

I see a beautiful woman with a speed bump on her chest

Yo, what the Hell, who's idea was that

Those things look defective, she should take ‘em back

I'm sick of it, this ain't what I paid for at all

If I wanted fake breasts I would have bought a Barbie doll

Why would a woman do something that drastic

Lookin' like a mannequin, rigid and plastic

Don't deny it, that's a design

Of the ACME Inflatable Bustline

To the untrained eye, yo, they may look fine

But to a pervert like me, yo, they're easy to find

I can pick out the point where the breast begins

Like she's hiding two basketballs under her skin

Big or small it doesn't matter at all

As long as they're not made from a silicon ball

Fake breasts don't bounce, don't move, don't try

So you'd better be careful, you might lose an eye

Eighty-four, twenty-four, thirty-four, please no more

They're so big they don't fit out the door

Artificially implanted sex appeal

I'm givin' new meaning to the phrase “get real”

(“Do you like boobs a lot?”) More than you know

But I don't like pizza made of play-dough

Are those things real?  My oh my

Or did an animal crawl up your shirt and die

How much did you pay for what we see

Did it come with a thirty year warrantee

Did you have the choice of size, shape and design

You made your points, I just made mine