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Lyrics
Don’t try to scan a seaweed heap, your fragile toes might step in glass Don’t try to pet your dog in the dark, you might feel it up the ass Grew up on tabbouli and hummus, carrots and baba ghanoush I can’t say the word “foyer” but I can pronounce the word “douche” Grew up on tabbouli and hummus, carrots and baba ghanoush I stopped calling people fags but I’m still in a rotten cartouche Mommy’s trucking kids in her belly, getting them ready for a soccer rot Next time I see a van with a telly, I’m going to hit them a lot The crime scene had officers’ heads down How will I unearth that mystery? Dental records, maybe? That poor baby. Mommy’s trucking kids in her belly, getting them ready for a soccer rot Next time I see a van with a telly, I’m going to hit them a lot A lot a lot a lot a lot "Oh my God it's DIP!"