Joystick - Jazzland Bandits lyrics

I haven't seen a cop this bad Since Guttenburgs' Mahoney The sheriffs and the sandwiches Are both filled with bologna There's the cold hard metal beds Next to the cold hard metal crapper And the cold hard metal bars Next to the prosthetic-legged rapper From the top of the Zephyr To the bottom of the barrel In monochromatic and itchy ill fitting apparel There's a trainee and a geezer And an ugly singing horde There's a dozen of us harmonizing to another inmates' snore There's a short little gangsta using a pen for a knife As a Jon Gosselin doppelganger Welcomes me to my new life His wife can't take care of their dog So laugh at him in Walgreens And I flip him off just like a Pog And now I suppose you know how the story goes Of the Jazzland Bandits drinking Cobras and Lokos And now I suppose you know how the story goes Of those Jazzland Bandits when they're drinking those Four Lokos