Busdriver - Casting Agents and Cowgirls lyrics

Hey Hey Hey Hey You did it, you got it, you wowed the world Of casting agents and cowgirls Fess up, you're dressed up to k** yourself Oh, yeah Girl, I'm a walking plane-crash to your moms and dads Ostentatious and cra** pulling the gauze off your scabs b**h, I negate the myth of the 'great black boyfriend' In the Polaroid at the get-together Wearing a corduroy vest-sweater So don't get that engagement ring engraved 'Cause before we met you thought that hood rats laid eggs And that rappers were just sky pirates with peg legs But I kick it with you simply for the sh**s and giggles, playful innuendos You thought, "he's just an uber-dred for the federal fiscal cap" But after brunch, you'll need Two Sudafeds and a disco nap After I drain your insides with a crazy straw You ain't my baby-doll "'Cause n***a you reek of coffee-shop blend" My baby's a lollipop that caters to the miss polyglot's whim" With addictive agents that outweigh Oxycontins And our phobias perfectly fit It takes a quirky chick with curvy hips to petrify this working-stiff [Chorus:] You did it, you got it You wowed the world Of casting agents and cowgirls Fess up you're dressed up to k** yourself While I'm still on the shelf They want an everyman milking the oldest gags Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flags They want an everyman milking the oldest gags Spilling the contents of a Pepsi can on folded flags I'll be today's avatar of the pre-fad Then end up a child star in rehab It's like a bed-and-breakfast I'm sending a text message on my keypad Saying "I have no more to say to my ex-manager/sea hag divorcee except eat sh** and die" My daily commute ends with a fender-bender 'Cause no one acknowledges my ten-year tenure I've got the know-how the thrill your scene But they want someone lowbrow, a philistine With iron-on irony for Viacom's white honkies They'll send you a girl wearing tight thongs under nylon gis "Let's all hit" But I'm not for the gaudy g**n the thought of it turns my member to a soggy plantain and sh**, I get off on news leads and your pet mouse meat, set and poised with s** toys in your penthouse suite believing you're Lou Reed I spit used reeds out the wet mouthpiece Even when s** appeal is taboo, electric bills are past due My head is clear of engineered, election-year snafu [Chorus] I used to say, f** it Wouldn't placate the functionaries Too busy making play-dates with buxom secretaries But I hope that my homies don't laugh, my choreographed dance steps Are a little effeminate for a sociopath We've been airbrushed so much we look like a claymation zoo I'm a voice-over on your PlayStation 2 But in my hey-day, my ethical fiber would turn stages into firewood [Chorus]