Retard-O-Bot

Retard-O-Bot - Piggly Wiggly lyrics

Gotta go slow

Gotta go slow

Pig without wings

Is just another pig

And a prick that's not hard

Is just another dick

Open real wide and in goes my fist

Wasn't that just so delicious

Peddling backwards, great exercise

Monopoly's a way of life for some

That perfect car, the house, the pool

That fucking girl from high school

The spoon, the spoon

Oh, fucking christ, the spoon

Cutting lines

Oh god, it's finally time to party

Dirty (x8)

Delivery, I'm fucking starving

Sounds good, let's get it going

Bury me up bread and a rocket

Expect no delays

Topsy turvy

Driving on the curvy

To the sounds of

Mail boxes knocking over

Help my aim, oh please

In a search, maybe

Don't tell anyone where I be

My sticky situations

Hiding, I'm flying

I keep them

From you

Fucking motherfuckers

Fucking motherfucker

A pig without wings

Is just another pig

And a prick that's not hard

Is just another dick

Nickles and dimes and pennies count

That's like sixteen cents to go toward a blow job

Know you've all been there before,

Fell face first, god makes you fall from grace

Sick, up late, don't call me names

What's all this shit on my face

The spoon, the spoon

Oh, fucking christ, the spoon

Cutting lines

Oh god, it's finally time to party

Dirty (x8)

Delivery, I'm fucking starving

Sounds good, let's get it going

Bury me up bread and a rocket

Expect no delays

Topsy turvy

Driving on the curvy

To the sounds of

Mail boxes knocking over

Help my aim, oh please

In a search, maybe

Don't tell anyone where I be

My sticky situations

Hiding, I'm flying

I keep them

From you

Fucking motherfuckers

Fucking motherfucker

A pig without wings

Is just another pig

And a prick that's not hard

Is just another dick

Smiling kids make me think

Do I have the right

To swing from the monkey bars

Candy hearts and lucky charms

Where the fuck is my delivery

At the playground going for a swim in my cereal

The spoon, the spoon

Oh, fucking christ, the spoon

Cutting lines

Oh god, it's finally time to party

Dirty (x8)

Delivery, I'm fucking starving

Sounds good, let's get it going

Bury me up bread and a rocket

Expect no delays

Topsy turvy

Driving on the curvy

To the sounds of

Mail boxes knocking over

Help my aim, oh please

In a search, maybe

Don't tell anyone where I be

My sticky situations

Hiding, I'm flying

I keep them

From you

Fucking motherfuckers

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

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