I’m walking in the middle of the afternoon, strolling and chilling and damn that’s a sweet groove
A perfect day to spot some bloom -- Oh, ¡Si Señor!, you want to zoom on my tube?
I want all of your money, take off your panties and give it to me
When your panties go pop pop, your jammies go bam bam
I wanna make it steamy on Encyclopædia Britann-I-can
I got a bunch of money and a stupid private jet
Its time to roll with me cause its the only chance you’ll get
Your body goes wham wham on Oslo’s Majorstuen tram
You smoked my ham and diced the Christmas gravy on my Spam
Its an Olympic jump down to the valley to my underpants
You’re fuzzy and you’re cuddly like a turtle in a Velcro van
When my jimmie goes tug tug on your prumperumpe rubbie-dub
SOS to yer flesh-sub, time to perpetrate my trouble chub
Its like this: you got my homey’s numbers saved into your smartphone
Your iPod’s like my nuts and it won’t take long to reach your bone
Give a wiggle to my Android, a tickle to my space rocket
"Ground control: there’s trouble with the rim-job on my sport jock"
Don’t weepy weepy weepy weepy weepy on my ding-dong
Unless you hate the disadvantaged puppy tattoo on my schlong
I want all of your money, take off your panties and give it to me
Hollywood/Bollywood: someone somewhere shake my wood
I’m a Munchkin in the West dropping loads in my neighborhood
I'm a cartoon, a comic-book, a graphic novel Superman
Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme what the White House bans
I hope its sweet and messy like a newborn baby turtledove
Wrapped up like a fish taco in San Francisco's Mission hub
I want wet ones, and dry ones, bumpy ones, fat
The triple cherry on your Vegas slot-machine is where its at
At Rockefeller Center, or Heaven, or France: it doesn't make a difference where, just let me reach into your pants
I'm hungry, I'm stuffed, I'm satisfied, I'm bored
The application in my slacks will soon become your Lord
There's a signal coming from my Millennium Falcon
Keep your baby-powder to the side, put away your talcum
Its natural, its fake, its wetter than a Great Lake
Call Minnesota/Chicago: there's a tornado looming, for Heaven's sake
I want all of your money, take off your panties and give it to me
I’m an Upper West Side Manimal, its a trap I broke your clavicle, Its didactic concrete radical, swarm me like coagulates, out-leash the imaginable, assault my Hannibal, burn my candle, score a parable, I’m old-time master rambler, the vintage Deion Sanders, the corpse of Burnt Scrabblers, Old Navy bought my masters.
I want all of your money, take off your panties and give it to me