Bo Burnham Album

I don't know if all boy scouts are gay
They could probably tie the knot in like, fifty different ways
I got a safe full o' cherries, 'cause I pop it and lock it,
A girl's like a fridge, once a week, you should stock it.

Girl, if you're into rimmin', it's only safe if you're swimmin',
But, girl, don't sit on that couch 'cause I treat my objects like women.
I spit fire like I just blew a demon,
My shit's so hot, I'll leave your toilet bowl steamin'.

I'm gonna tear it [tarot], like the cards of the gypsies,
You'll bleed for so long you'll get monthly ellipses.
If your pants are loose, I'll replete ya.
You're a first time vegan and it's nice to meet [meat] ya.

I'm Bo, yo,
And I'm the greatest rapper ever,
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not,
Think you're better, you're not,
Don't need a sweater, I'm hot,
I'm a real G-shawty that can really find your G-spot.
Woah, yeah... hey, what the fuck's a G-spot?

Go to a vagina orchard, count one, two, three.
Spin that plant around you got a third-world country [cunt-tree].
That's right, consider yourself warned,
I'm offensive and creative like handicapped porn.

You're playing with your breasts, excuse me, can I try it ma'am?
You're pushin' 'em together like a titty venn diagram.
Look at that crack, excuse me can I buy a gram?
Right below your diaphragm,
Ass looks like you're hidin' ham.

First base, we're making out.
Second base, I'm getting faked out.
Said, third base, I'm getting take out.
And I'd try to take it home if I knew I'd take it out,

But I just don't know, I said I just don't care,
I said my flow's so cold I need a tampon from a polar bear.
And you can spell and smell my stink,
B.O. lingers and it makes you think.

'Cause I'm Bo, yo
And I'm the greatest rapper ever,
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not,
Think you're better, you're not,
Don't need a sweater I'm hot,
I'm a real G-shawty that can really find your G-spot.
Woah, yeah... provided that you point me in the general direction.

'Cause girls are like donuts when I be bustin' Bo nuts,
I can make 'em cream-filled or give them a layer of glaze.
I'm like Doug's friend Skeeter whenever I meet her,
Because I skeet her so hard people call her Patty Mayonnaise.
(Oh, Nickelodeon and cum, what?)

I'm blowin' up like I thought I would,
I'm circumcised 'cause i don't come from the hood.
My girl is epileptic cause she's the one I'm jerkin with,
Come on, you Asian child-laborer, show me what you're workin' with.
Ooh, large machinery.

'Cause there's an inverse relationship between respect and sects
I'm talking 'bout religious sects like a Mormon sect,
That says you can't have sex with members of different sects, but you can't have sex with members of the same sex,
So if the sects can't be different and the sex can't be same, then the only sex left is some left-hand shame.
And girl I left you cause you left the game and if that don't feel right, then you can write my name.

'Cause I'm Bo, yo,
And I'm the greatest rapper ever,
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not,
Think you're better, you're not,
Don't need a sweater, I'm hot,
I'm a real G that can really find your G-spot.
Woah, yeah... but I'm inadequate.

Yo, my junk's so long that it hangs and swings,
So at the nude beach people think I'm lookin for lost rings.
Play the skin flute, your big boy sings,
And if you want to take it all, wear African neck-rings.
(They make your neck longer 'cause my... fuck it)

Haters call me gay, but that ain't hatin'.
'Cause im not homophobic, my morals are straight,
And if I'm in the closet, then you are below me,
Taking the B-A-T out of basement, homey

'Cause I'm Bo, yo,
And I'm the greatest rapper ever,
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not,
Think you're better, you're not,
Don't need a sweater,
I'm a real G that can really find your what now.
Oh, yeah... well I'm Bo, yo, what, I'm representin' you, I'm representin' the people from the 01982, yo.
Oh, yeah, what, yo motherfucker, tingle, yeah.

(Ladies and Gentlemen, make some noise for Bo Burnham!)

Uh, thanks, uhm, welcome to my show, it's called, uh, "If You Sing Along, I'll Fucking Kill You."

Every time I go to dinner,
Seems like I'm getting a little bit thinner.
I'll sit down at the breakfast table.
I can talk, they're not able.

When I look at them, I find,
There's a single question on their mind.
I wish it could go back to the way it was.
It's not easy now because...

My whole family thinks I'm gay.
I guess it's always been that way.
Maybe it's cause of the way that I walk,
That makes them think that I like- boys.
(That I like boys.)

The goddamn question just won't go away,
Cause i get asked every single day,
But the way they ask is no disguise,
Like, "How was your day? Do you like to kiss guys?" (That's... funny.)
This is the worst, baby, this was my fear,
Now their opinions are crystal-clear.

My whole family now is shocked,
I'm in the closet and the door is locked.
Now my glory days are gone,
I was John Elway now I'm Elton John.

My whole family now suspects,
That watching Spongebob had side-effects.
I'm not gay and that's what I said,
If I'm gay, hey, God, strike me dead. (*coughs, piano abruptly stops*)

Just 'cause I'm afraid of the snow,
Or my favorite color is the rain(Bo)w.
I don't mean to yell, but I fear I must,
'Cause I'm losing the people that I thought I could trust.

Because even my boyfriend thinks I'm gay. (*laughs*, motherfucker.)

You all probably think I'm gay,
Man, this song is counter-productive.
La la la la la...

Because my whole family thinks I'm gay,
What do they know, anyway?
Baby, you gotta see right through the haze,
Easy-Bake Oven was just a phase.

My whole family thinks I'm queer,
That is all I ever hear,
But I've been as straight as a ramp,
If you don't count Bible Camp.


Thanks for coming out, uh. Hey, so, those ASU girls are pretty hot, any of you...? Any of you?
Ok, this isn't a great example, but uhm...
I'm just kidding, it's... you're in the dark, I couldn't see you, I bet you're gorgeous, in the dark, uhm.
Like my shirt? Back home, they call me the "tie-dye shirt kid", well, that and "faggot."

Okay, on that note, I'm going to rap. (laughs) Yeah.

Walkin' my poodles, man, it never gets old,
With my dogs on my leash, I got bitches on the hold.
A first-AIDS kit, that's a rhesus monkey,
I bust more nuts than a pistachio junkie.

I, I get more ass than a giant donkey stable,
I got more lines than Whitney Houston's coffee table.
I get more head than grammar school lice,
I'm like a walking glacier, I'm so decked out with ice.

Hey, Jesus loves you as long as you're white,
Did you poop a virgin, 'cause that shit is tight.
Hey, I'm blowin' up, like I thought I would,
I'm circumcised 'cause i don't come from the hood.

Yo, I do drugs in the bedroom lie on your back,
'Cause I gots the pipe and you gots the crack.
Though I'm sexually straight, you're bound to find,
I'm mentally gay,'Cause I'll blow your mind... ma'am.
Yo, the parents be snickering, he shouldn't have written it,
But I'm constipated, I couldn't give a shit.
What, motherfucker, what, yo, (laughs) this kid's a virgin.

My name is Bo-
My name is Bo, fo' sho',
A born Bostonian,
Aryan librarian at the wordsmith-sonian.
The rap is scattered, it hides its ingenuity,
I gave it this little part to give it continuity.

Uh, fucking feel it, yeah.
Yo, huh, where are we? Yeah.

And the fellas say, "Hey, moron, pass the gin,"
'Cause I'm an OXYmoron breathin' OXYgen.
Gimme the bottle, I'll chug two-thirds,
'Cause you bitches know fractions speak louder than words, oh.

And the ladies say, "Hey fellas, I'm keeping it tight,
And if you play your cards right, you can have me tonight."
Should I blow you or beat you, brass or percussion?
Oh, stop, period, end of discussion.

Yo, my name is Bo, fo' sho',
A born Bostonian,
Aryan librarian at the wordsmith-sonian.
The rap is scattered, it hides its ingenuity,
I gave it this little part to give it continuity.

Walkin' through the garden, food at my feet,
Picked up the celery, but dropped the beet [beat].
Yeah, and then I picked it up.
(And then, if there was music, it would get faster)
Alright, uhm, let's end this.

Yo, we're in the hood,
I'll take what you give me.
Was Einstein's theory good?
Relatively.

A smart queen's kingdom [dumb], it doesn't mix.
A litter of literates, a bunch of Moby Dicks.
"Get thee to a punnery" oh-just-to-pheelia.
Take you with a condom, stainless-steel ya.

Half a pound of turkey breast,
Half a pound of chicken tits.
Why are only crackers stayin' at the Ritz?

Poverty racism, isn't it strange,
That only the homeless are begging for change?
A shocked Sherlock, "Watson?" [What, son?]
Rosa Parks didn't call "shotgun".

Here's a little bit of irony,
A Ford Focus driver's got ADD.
How did I get to master all these things?
Like a tampon thief, I had to pull some strings.

Uhm, so this next song is about love, appropriately.

I love you like kings love queens,
Like a gay geneticist loves designer jeans [genes].
I need you like New Orleans needs a drought,
Like Hitler's father needed to learn to pull out.

And I want you, yeah,
Like a lawyer-slash-mathematician wants some kind of proof.
And I want you, yeah,
Like JFK wanted...
A car with a roof.

Because love is taking that dive,
Then getting really comfortable and peeing in the pool.
And love is a real-life porn,
Minus all the stuff that makes porn cool.

And love is a homeless guy, searching for treasure in the middle of the rain and,
Finding a bag of gold coins and slowly finding out they're all filled with chocolate and,
Even though he's heart broken, he can't complain 'cause he was hungry in the first place.

Because I love you like Dora loves maps,
Like the pope's toilet loves holy craps. (Just's a little one.)
I need you like a voyeur needs a branch,
Like boys tossing salad need a little bit of Neverland Ranch.

And I want you, yeah,
Like all the gothic kids that look exactly the same never want to conform.
And I want you like Anne Frank wanted...
Nobody to read her fucking diary.
'Cause a diary is a collection of secret things that no one's supposed to read, that's the whole point of a diary. Millions of people that breached this little girl's privacy after she was chased by Nazis, kick her while she's down.

And if we met in 10,000 BC,
I was your caveman, you's my cavelady.

If we got hot, we'd start rubbing,
If we got hungry, we'd go clubbing.
There's woolly mammoths, but I will protect us,
You're making me devolve to a homo erectus, mothafucker.

And if we met in 1780,
I was a white southern aristocratic plantation owner and you were my dark-skinned servant lady... slave.
Whenever I could get away from the missus,
I go to your shed and then I'd steal you kisses.
But let's be serious, I'd still work you full-time as a slave, there's a difference between romantic language and a complete disregard for socio-economic trends.

And if we met in 1941,
I was a Nazi, you's a Gypsy on the run. (That's a little redundant.)
That... probably wouldn't have worked out.

Because...
Love is your favorite food for every breakfast, lunch and dinner.
And love is the Holocaust, 'cept you don't die quick and you don't get thinner.
And love is being the owner of the company that makes rape whistles,
And even though you started the company with good intentions trying to reduce the rate of rape,
Now you don't want to reduce it at all cause if the rape rate declines, you'll see an equal decline in whistle sales.
Without rapists, who's gonna buy your whistles?

Yeah, love is all about...
Whistles. Thank you.

[Talking to Audience]
Uh, that one was a bit vulgar, but uh, you know, dicks and vaginas are sorta like Coke and Pepsi, you know? Ah, I strongly prefer one, but my dad thinks they taste the same.

So, I've done a lot of comedy, so let's, uhh, take a little break from that, and this is, uhm, it's just a song that if you'll just indulge me, it's...yeah.

She was the perfect woman, in every single way,
She made the sun shine brighter and all my cares go away.
She was the perfect woman, she was a gourmet chef.
They say that love is blind, well, it's also deaf.

'Cause Helen Keller was the perfect woman,
And no one understands,
Just how talented, she was with her hands. (UHH!)
Well, God made her the perfect woman, I was the finishing touch.
She was the perfect woman, 'cause she didn't talk so much.

She wanted to name the kids, so I finally let her.
It turned out horribly, Chewbacca could have done better. (Rrrrrr~)
But I guess it was alright, we had a boy and a girl.
Just me and Helen, Er-Ah and Earl.

'Cause Helen Keller was my miracle worker, I was her one-man show,
I could walk around the house naked, she wouldn't even know.
Because Helen Keller was my perfect woman, I was her only need,
Well, she didn't mind the zits on my ass, gave her more to read.
Gave her more to read, it gave her more to read, it gave her more to read, it gave her more to read, yeah, more to read, it gave her more to read, more to read- (laughs)

Helen Keller was my perfect woman, but I don't think she cared,
I played this song for her, she just sat there and stared.
Well, she was still my perfect woman, I was sort of a mess,
I asked her to marry me she said, "ErrRr."

[Talking to the Audience]

So, yeah, I did just graduate high school, seniors '08!
And, uhm, yeah, I actually wrestled in high school, I was only in one match, and I lost... my virginity. Uhm. Yeah, my high school girlfriend, actually, she recently told me that I kiss like a stroke victim, which is weird that she has like, that frame of reference, you know. But you know, I stopped, and I thought, I thought, I thought, you know, what would Jesus do? So I didn't exist. No, I'm just kidding, I took her out to dinner, just ordered the bread and then told her to eat me.

This next song... (laughs)the fuck am I doing?

This next song is a first-hand account.

High-school party, senior year,
Boys and girls are all sippin' on beer.
I like soda, where's the soda?
Am I the only fucking person here that likes soda?

I see you from across the crowd,
The party is bumpin' and the music is loud.
You're really drunk and you're looking sad,
It's like a date-rape ad.

Girl, then we start to dance, and
Girl, baby, this is romance,
Girl, I'm starting to grow down below,
Shit, why did I wear sweatpants? Ooh, yeah,

Girl, your body's like, what?
Conjunction junction, that's a fine ass, butt.
I'm like a cashew in a lollipop,
Just keep sucking 'til you get to the nut.

And I said, let's rob an Asian kitchen or stroll down the block,
Either way, girl, we're taking a walk [wok]. (It's...)
You're gonna love me the way my uncle did,
Except you're not gonna to go to court for doing it.
Be a guillotine, or my girl instead,
Either way, I said, you're giving me head.
I'm gonna love you, baby, the right way,
Shawty with a body, lookin' hottie when I say, girl.

We walk into the bedroom, exchanging nervous laughter,
Why is called dry humping if I always need a towel after?
You spread your naked legs, and I see that wound that never healed,
Even though you're yelling for me, I can tell your lips are sealed.
(I've been around.)

We're both aware of my erection,
You ask if I have protection.
I say, "No, I mean, I tried to buy 'em once. I was in a convenient store, my old babysitter walked in and I had to hide them near the Tic-Tacs, I was so embarrassed, I peed myself a little bit."

Girl, girl, yeah, well, yeah.
Insert a euphemism,
A sexy mental prism,
Increase my pelvic rhythm,
Fill you with my syllogism.

Know your body and I know how to please you,
Don't thank me, thank Wikipedia.
Guys don't go down, well I am,
What the fuck is that, I should have brought my diagram.
Ooh, did you feel that? That was an educated guess. [In a deep voice.]
Ooh, yeah, did you feel that? Uh, that one was a sneeze, my bad.
I'm allergic to one type of cat.

High-school party, senior year, none of that happened 'cause I wasn't invited.

You guys seem like you're on my side, right?

Alright, let's change that.

Grab a seat, have something to eat, help yourself, it's alright.
If you want a beer, they're over here, but we only got Coors Light.
Try a chip with my homemade dip, the stuff is outta sight.
Right before bed, we'll shave your head, good thing you're dressed in white.

'Cause it's the Klan Kookout
'Cause it's the Klan Kookout

Here's the wife-slash-sister,
She brightens up my day.
She went away and I missed her,
'Cause my mom's a lousy lay.

Don't hang with foreign fellows,
It'll only be your loss.
Stay here and roast marshmallows,
By the burning cross.

At the Klan Kookout.
Just the Black people! (silence, laughter)
Klan Kookout.
Dan's on lookout.
At the Klan Kookout.

And if you're Black, don't want to see your face.
They're like a high-school track, just a stupid race.
We've got a plan, kill all the Jews.
Are you a Mexican, because you seem confused,
"Señor? que, que, que?" [KKK]

It's the Klan Kookout,
It's the Klan Kookout
Mein Kampf?
Check that book out, yeah.
At the Klan Kookout.

"All men are created equal", man that shit gets me pissed.
Here's an idea for a sequel, someone loses Schindler's List.
I cook, I clean, 'cause I'm the hooded host,
And on Halloween, I dress as a... slave owner.

We hate Hispanics, hence the twenty-foot walls,
And all you goddamn dirty Catholics, can Cath-o-lick my balls.
Ethnics give off weird aromas, and I can't understand,
Why we need high-school diplomas, with the bible in hand.

At the Klan Kookout. I have black friends.

I was just kidding with that... I don't have black friends.

This next song takes something that's not that fun, math, and makes it offensive.

It's New Math.

What's a pirate minus the ship?
Just a creative homeless guy.
And an anteater plus a large, hungry mutant ant?
An ironic way to die.
What's domain, domain range? [X,XY]
A kid with too much in his pants.
Two balls minus one?
Seven titles at the Tour de France. [Cancer]

It gets worse.

Yeah, split a decision with long division,
Take the circumference of your circumcision.
Live like your data and when you're all set,
Put it all together and whatever you get
It's New Math.

And what's a bag of chips divided by five?
Well that's a Nike worker's meal.
And Santa Claus multiplied by 'i'?
Well, I guess that makes him real.
And the square root of the NBA?
Is Africa in a box.
How do you trace a scatter plot?
You give the pencil to Michael J. Fox.
(Whatever.)

Take the approximate moral proportion,
Of the probable problem of a pro-life abortion.
Live like your data and when you're all set,
Put it all together and whatever you get
It's New, It's New, It's New, It's New, It's New Math.

And if you took a factor tree,
Of the factors that caused my girl to leave me,
You'd have a tree, full of Asian porn.
C-A-L, C-U lator, mathematical minds cause industrial smog.
And what's the opposite of ln(x), Duraflame the unnatural log.
Support the farmers with a pro-tractor,
Link Kennedy and Lincoln with a common fact-or,
Live like your data and when you're all set,
Put it all together and whatever you get
It's New, It's New, It's New...

Alright word problems, ready?
If there's a fat guy in a pastry shop, with a twenty-dollar bill and he's ready to buy,
In order to predict his volume change, you'll need to know the value of pie. [π 'pi']
And there's a metal train that's a mile long and at the very back end a lightning bolt struck her,
How long 'til it reaches and kills the driver, provided that he is a good conductor? [An electrical and train condutor.]
And if ten percent of men are gay, twenty percent of men are Chinese,
What are the odds of a man chosen at random spends his free-time and meal-time while on his knees?
And if Kim is half as old as Bobby, who is two years older than twelve-year old Tory,
For how many more thirty-day months will their threesomes be considered statutory rape?

'Cause Math can be sexy.
'Cause having sex is like quadratic expansion,
If it can't be split then it's time to stop.
And having sex is like you're doing fractions,
It's improper for the larger one to be on top, yeah.
And having sex is like math homework,
I do it best when I'm alone in my bed.
And squaring numbers are just like women,
If they're under thirteen, just do them in your head.
And New Math.

Let's rock this shit.

I don't know if all boy scouts are gay
As they could probably "tie the knot" in like fifty different ways
I got a safe full o' cherries, cause I pop it and lock it,
A girl's like a fridge, once a week you should stock it,

Girl, if your into a rimmin its only safe if your swimming,
But girl don't sit on that couch 'cause I treat my objects like women.
I spit fire like I just blew a demon
My shits so hot I'll leave the toilet bowl steamin'

I'm gonna tear it, like the cards of the gypsies
Youth bleed for so long you'll get monthly ellipses.
If the pants are loose, I'll replete ya.
You're a first time vegan and it's nice to meet ya

I'm Bo yo
I'm the greatest rappa eva
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not
Think your better your not
Don't need a sweater
I'm a real G shawty that can really find your G-spot
Woah yeah...What the fuck's a G-spot

Go to a Vagina orchard, count 1,2,3
Spin that plant around you got a third world country
Yo, that's right, consider yourself warned
I'm offensive and creative like handicapped porn

Your playing with your breasts, excuse me, can I try it ma'am?
Your pushin' 'em together like a titty Venn Diagram
Look at that crack excuse me can I buy a gram?
Right below your diaphragm, ass looks like your hidin' ham.

First base, we're making out
Yeah, second base, I'm getting faked out.
Third base, I'm getting take out
And I'd try to take it home if I knew I'd take it out

But I just don't know I said I just don't care
I said my flow's so cold I need a tampon from a polar bear
And you can spell and smell my stink
B.O. lingers and it makes you think

'Cause I'm Bo yo
And I'm the greatest rappa eva
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not
Think your better your not
Don't need a sweater
I'm a real G shawty that can really find your G-spot
Woah yeah...provided that you point me in the general direction

'Cause girls are like donuts when I be bustin Bo nuts,
I can make em cream-filled or give them a layer of glaze
I'm like Doug's friend Skeeter whenever I meet her,
Because I skeet her so hard peaople call her Patty Mayonnaise.

Yo, hey, my girl is epileptic cause shes the one I'm jerkin with
Common you Asian child laborer show me what your workin' with...
Ooh, large machinery

'Cause there's an inverse relationship between respect and sects
I'm talking bout religious sects like a Mormon sect,
That says you cant have sex with members of different sects, but you cant have sex with members of the same sex
So if the sects cant be different and the sex can be same, then the only sex left is some left hand shame.
And girl I left you cause you left the game and if that don't feel right then you can write my name.

'Cause I'm Bo yo
And I'm the greatest rappa eva
(grumbling and mumbling) ...your not
Don't need a sweater I'm hot
Something about a G-...whatever

Yo, i said my junk's so long that it hangs and swings, so at the nude beach people think I'm lookin for lost rings
Play the skin flute while your big boy sings and if you want to take it all wear African neck rings.
(It makes your neck longer 'cause my dick...)

Yo, haters call me gay, but that aint hatin'
Cause im not homophobic, my morals are straight and
If I'm in the closet then you are below me
Takin the b-a-t out of basement, homey
(semen, it spells)

'Cause I'm Bo yo.

(from the audience) I love you
(Bo) My mum is here tonight

So this is my last song, (oh, no, don't go). And, uhm, yeah, it's, uhm, I'll end it with, uhh, something about love.

She got me with her looks, she got me with her stare,
Bright blue eyes and her long, blonde hair.
From the start, it was easy to see, this was the girl for me.
Who cares if she was eighty-three?

She could make me silent, she could make me shout,
And she drove me wild with those dentures out.
When we ate, people said we were rude,
Because I had to pre-chew her food.

Her skin was saggy, so was the rest,
I put my hand up her skirt and I felt her breast.
We made love and the more that I thrust,
The more the room was covered in dust. (coughs)
The room was covered in dust.

Then one day, I felt a chill,
As I woke up from my bed,
She was lying there real still,
My little lady was already dead.

The wake happened on a Saturday night,
I just sat there and bowed my head,
A little girl was on my right,
Crying because her grandma was dead.

And that little girl she,

Got me with her looks, got me with her tears,
Feminine beauty beyond her years.
From the start, it was easy to see,
That was the girl for me.
Who cares if she was only three?

A good note to end the show on. Pedophelia.

See you guys.

Ah, well, hello, everyone. Uhm, welcome to the Rehab Center for Fictional Characters. Uhm, alright, let's just get right to it. Who wants to start us off, how 'bout you Kris?

Uhm, alright. Hey, I'm, uh, Kris Kringle, I'm a sex addict.

Hey, I'm Santa Claus,
I'm the king of snow,
I hate my wife because,
She's a ho, ho, ho.
She used to please me everyday,
Then she made it clear,
That Santa's only s'pose to come once a year.
(Fucking bitch.)

Now I buy whores,
Rock 'n' roll,
And I stuff their stockings,
With my north pole.

Okay, Kris. Thank you. Alright, who's up next? Patrick, frowny face, get up here.

Alright, I'm, uh, Patrick O'Riley, I'm a leprechaun, are you all doing good? Yeah, I'm not doing so good.

I had a wonderful life,
With a healthy household,
And a beautiful wife,
And a pot full of gold. (Ha!)

Then my wife spent my riches all by herself,
And since women are bitches, blew a Keebler elf. (Hm!)

Now I drink all day,
And a part of me dies,
Cause my wife's gettin gangbanged,
By the Rice Krispie guys.

"Hey, I know them."
Oh, Tony, nice of you to show up. Where were you last week?
Yeah, I had some stuff... I had to work out some stuff. I'm, uh, hey, I'm Tony the Tiger, uh, fuck it, I'll just sing.

Everyday I wake up, I get to work late,
My boss says, "hey, what's up?"
I say I'm grrrrrowing tired of this shit.
The kids they laugh cause I'm a sensitive cat,
"Big pussy!" I can't argue with that.
If another kid gives me Frosted Flakes,
I swear on my life, I'll eat his- parents.

Ok, Tone, thank you. Uhm, so that's everybody. So let's just get down to it. Uhm, oh, who are you?

Hi, yeah, hi, yeah, hi, yeah.

I'm the Easter bunny, hey, I'm back,
Used to be funny, now I'm hooked on crack.
Heaps of heroin ain't no joke,
Marshmallow peeps covered in coke coke coke coke coke coke coke coke, coooooke.
Ahh, coke!

Drugs for life, that's my plan,
But now I have no attention spa-eeee...

Ok, I'm gonna go get him, alright? You guys just please, play nice, alright? I'll be back in a second, ok?

Santa: "Hey, Pat, did you hear? All my elves got sick. I think they got herpes from some Irish chick."
Patrick: "Motherfucker. What are you laughing at Tony?"
Tony: "I don't know it's, uh, it's funny, uhm."
Patrick: "This is getting ridiculous. Santa, Tony, could you guys please stop?"
Tony: "Oh, Snap... Crackle and Pop. *chuckle*, 'cause they banged your wife."

Patrick: "I'm getting out of here, this is fucking ridiculous."

Before YouTube I walked through life,
And now I frolic.
YouTube's been like a father to me,
Except YouTube's not an alcoholic.

Before YouTube, I was just a skinny white kid,
That thought he was funnier and cooler then he actually was.
And now... well, not much has changed but I have a shit-load of money.

Cause YouTube is a place for people to share their ideas.
If by 'people' you mean 13 year old girls,
And by 'ideas' you mean how they love the Jonas Brothers,
I'm just kidding, but let's be honest that's a hefty majority.
And if you don't believe me, well, then you must be a noob.
So welcome to YouTube.

And you don't know what your missing, a-just try searching women kissing,
It's YouTube, it's just what this country's been needing,
A generation of kids who don't waste their time reading.
Am I the only one who thinks that Lisa Nova's hot,
And Chris Crocker's not. No...
He's hotter.

Most of the best YouTubers are either Asian or they're gay,
So there's an untapped YouTube celebrity and his name is George Takei.
And your favorite coat's got a doodoo stain,
I pray to God that that's chocolate rain.
And I find videos of babies laughing a bit intrusive.

Because Barack Obama won the election because of YouTube.
Wait, did I say YouTube, I meant the black vote.
And I think YouTube and Fred are so cool [in Fred's voice].
And what the buck will be back in a Jiffy Lube,
So welcome to YouTube,
Welcome to YouTube,
Hey, welcome to YouTube.

I said-a listen and linger,
Charlie the Unicorn bit my finger.
It's YouTube, the impact is evident,
Miss Teen South Carolina just ran for Vice President.
Upload a video, you got nothing to lose,
Except all of your friends.

And the approval of your parents.

Hi, my name is Mary, and I'm 19 years old and I got drunk at a party and I think someone was videotaping it,
But I don't want anyone to see it 'cause I showed half of my boob,
(Sorry, Mary!)

Welcome to YouTube.
Say hello to YouTube,
And say goodbye to your college scholarship.
And if your video doesn't appeal to me,
You gotta change the key-word,

Welcome to YouTube,
I said welcome to YouTube.
And it'll keep on going and it'll never stop.
No, until its privatized.

Here he is, our little bundle of joy,
We did it honey, it's a baby boy.
We'll love him and raise him, 'til he finally leaves us,
What should we name him? How about Adolf?
Little Adolf.

He's growing up, like little boys do,
He's grown a mustache and he's only two.
He's a pyrotechnic and he loves to play with knives,
And our little buddy gives the weirdest high fives.

Little Adolf, Little Adolf,
Little Adolf, Little Adolf,
He's a dictator tot,
Dictator-tot.

He gets a little bit angry, but he's smart as hell,
And who taught him how to speak German so well?
He doesn't like milk, soda hurts his head,
I tried to give him juice, this is what he said:

"I hate juice, okay?"
"Ok, Hitler, please, drink your juice. I'm tired, I want to go to bed."
"Just, you know what? Get the juice out of here, out of this house, out of this country, now."
"Hitler, get the j... what do you want me to do with...?"
"Put the juice in camps and separate them."
"Separate juice? Hitler, what you want me to do, separate them by flavor? By like, concentration?"
"Concentration... eh?"

Little Adolf, he's a dictator-tot.