[Intro: Samples]
"Practically every great leader was a man whose achievements were largely inspired by a woman. When things get tough—and you can count on it, they will—you may be deserted by what you thought were friends. But if you've got a good woman, you'll never be alone"
"When I was young, I used to wait
On mass'r, and hand him his plate
And pass the bottle when he got dry
And brush away the blues—"

[Verse 1: Paul Barman]
A little goon in a locker room
Rat-tails, the octoroon
He'll be drinking vodka soon
And his big brothers are frat guys
Whose IQs lose to their fitted baseball hat size
Smirkin' jocks with hackysacks
In Birkenstocks and khaki slacks
I'm the hypest lyricist
While they're like, "What type of beer is this?"
The liquid is ubiquitous
And has such a hold
On all the strata, it's just got to be
Government-controlled
Behind the bottle and the throne
Sits an unknown man wiser
And bigger for the liquor store
The number one franchiser
Perhaps George Bush and his sons
Are relatives of Anheuser
I wanted to get in a pooper hole one day
So I invited girls over on Super Bowl Sunday
Only one showed up—Princess Superstar
[Verse 2: Princess Superstar]
Thanks for inviting me over, Let me look around
Ooo, the bed post, stacked billfolds
Back to back to black dildos
Nice hit, kudos
Pass the Cool Ranch Doritos
I love nachos
Put on Fat Joe
Nah, that really sucks—let's put on The Beatles
Yo, let's check the half time show
I hope it's Michael Jackson
Singing Satisfaction with Hanson
Or Luther Vandross in a sparkling costume
With big pants dancin
Or maybe I saw that in a Bud Light commercial
Speakin' of which, give this bitch
A drink quick to wet my lips
You got enough cheddar lyin' around this place
To fix up my tits
As if I need it...

[Verse 3: MC Paul Barman + Princess Superstar]
Conchetta, please!
If you see any chedda'
It's cheddar cheese
I'm easily great
I don't need to be in some sort of Ken Kesey state
To create something you can appreciate
Who are you talkin' to?
Makin' you draw conclusions
And superficial distinctions make you go sacre bleu
—I can speak French too
Suck my nuh-nuh
French my cunt
Comprenez-vous?
Look Pepe Le Pew
Let's cut to the denouement
You wanna fuck me, I wanna fuck you
So it's on—
Can I chime in?
I'll still be rhymin'
When I'm in your hymen
I radiate like I was 88
And I'm searching for my lady mate
I'm a hunter-gatherer
A cunter-latherer
My dandy voice makes the most anti-choice
Granny's panties moist
I do the new when the tried and true fails
Plus I'm lookin' fly in my sky-blue tails
Now peel off your tube top
So I can feel your boobs flop on my lubed cock
Socks up to your calf like a chick from The Craft
I wanna put on a serrated condom and saw you in half
My knees are weak, I need knee-pads
You fuck me blind, I can't see, dag!
Run me a hot bath add the epsom salt
Soak my lower half from your Mortal-Kombat cock-saw
Let me head south
Put it in my mouth
'Cause I like the taste
When I burst in your face
I'll invade your personal space
I'm like Chase, stick your card in and out
Thanks see, look how much stacks of cream are coming out
I removed her sanitary napkin with my teeth
And there was a planetary backspin underneath
I faced her womb
Let's do a pap smear with a taster spoon
You can sleep on the guest cot
I'll sleep in the wet spot
[Verse 3: MC Paul Barman + Princess Superstar]
I'll be your boyfriend
Smooch on your pooper hole
All through the Super Bowl
Your man doesn't even miss you
Glued to the boob-tube, watcha gonna do, dude?
I woke up sticky
And quickly applied a temporary tattoo to a hickey
Went to salt and shake her awake
With orange juice and strong coffee cake
After we had a bite
We pushed the canoe in the lake
You don't paddle right
Look, a shooting star!
It's a fucking satellite
Lady, one more complaint
And I'll shove a rape-whistle up the Mrs. Va-jay-jay
What'd you say?!
Listen Slim Shay-day
Tell Dre he better fuckin' pay me
Your talents are bite-size
It's no surprise you rhyme with white guys
I jumped in the water
What did I want a girlfriend for?
Just like you, you jizz on your floor
I don't want sweet potatoes anymore
I didn't even leave her an oar
Did a medium crawl stroke back to shore
Who's next to flirt with this exhausting extrovert?
I parted some palm fronds
Guess who lent me dry long-johns?
Uncle Ralph McDaniels
He said "what's up Paul Nathaniel Barman
Let's get MTV off the air—I deserve my own channel"
[Bridge: Samples]

[Outro: MC Paul Barman ]
MC Paul Barman
Came here to make the coolest, funniest, smartest songs with Prince Paul!
No, 'cause it's over