Adam Sandler - Dee Wee (My Friend The Ma**ive Idiot) lyrics

He said he'd be here at seven The clock just hit 7:22 It's too cold outside To wait for my ride Watching mama try out a new doo (Bruins) He said he'd be here at seven But it just hit 7:35 (already?) Here in Brockton, Ma**., I got my thumb in my a** Mama's combing up a big beehive (Celtics) Where the f** is he? Where the f** is he? The b**h doesn't even bother calling Even though it's 7:44 (I fell asleep, pally) I'm feeling kinda antsy Mama's getting fancy Slicking back a wet pompadour (Red Sox) He said he'd be here at seven It's closing in on 8:01 (Trimmin' the ÂÂ'stache, kid) Me lookin' like a sap In a wool knit cap Mama's next move is a bun (f**in' Patriots) Where the f** is he? (My pants are still in the dryer, dude) Where the f** is he? (I couldn't find my f**in' snowboots, pal) I wish I had a car (Huge, huge hangover) Oh, no (Ma**ive hailstorm, ma**ive hailstorm, ma**ive) That stupid little punk He's probably f**in' drunk I bet he drank a case Wanna pop him in the face right now Mama's eyebrow Wicked good Wicked good (Oh, GOD) Wicked good Wicked good (f** yeah) Wicked good Wicked good (Pisser?) Well my friend is still a no-show And I'm getting' f**ing pissed (Why?) 'Cause I could've gone with Charlie In the side of his Harley Mama's on the phone with a stylist (f** Charlie!) So I guess I ain't going out tonight 'Cause the digits say 12:09 (sh**-faced) But call the operator 'Cause one perm later Mama's hair sure do look fine (Heffenreffer!!!) Where the f**