|
It was Friday night down at GFY, with a case of beer by my side.
The drama had started, and someone just farted, and and another celebrity died.
A cheater was caught redirecting his hits, and a hotlinker just got caught.
Grogan was posting, but now he is ghosting, 'cause Juicy just owned him A-LAWT.
I was bored and so lonely in my phat bachelor crib and I wished I had something to do.
John Travolta is here now, he's drinkin' my beer now, and he's calling up Lensman and crew.
It's a party at my house, with the GFY peeps, they're trashing my pad as we speak.
Juicylinks has a big bone, he's rubbing it a-lone and now Amp is beating his meat.
I see BradShaw in the corner with Little Jack Horner, and I think that he just sucked a plum.
I'm fucked in the head now, so I'm heading to bed now, but before my so-ong is done...
I'll sing Goooo Fuck Yourself!
It's the happiest place I could be.
Goooo Fuck Yourself!
Cause I'm glad that you're not fucking me.
__________________
|