LAMESAURUS

I’m the Lameasaurus, my lyrics they bore us
My fans they ignore us, cuz I drive a Ford Taurus
They cringe at my chorus and hold applause for us.

I’m the wonder bread rapper, rhymes from the crapper
I don’t dress as dapper as a candy bar wrapper
Wife called me “napper”, I hadda go slap ‘er.

Lame-a-ee-ay!
(crowd) Oh.
Ay!!
(crowd) Oh.
Ay!!
(crowd) Oh.

I get busy, work up a tizzy, drinkin’ a fizzy
The bros call me “Sissy”, “Prissy” and even a “Missy”
They throw a hissy, they diss me but their disses all miss me

Cuz I come on long and strong even when I’m wrong
Eventually, I’ll be free to be me – a money guarantee
I’m da bomb, I rhyme with aplomb, from here to Vietnam

Lame-a-ee-ay!
(crowd) Oh.
Ay!!
(crowd) Oh.
Ay!!

I’m feelin’ neglected, dejected, and always corrected
In effect, I collect disrespect, I wrecked my chance to connect
I expect, left unchecked, I’ll misdirect efforts to perfect

My troubles are mounting, I’m stuck in accounting
I sit at a computer, I’m a daily commuter
My job sorta sucks, but it pays a few bucks and I’m not driving trucks

Lame-a-ee-ay!
(crowd) Go
(crowd) Away!!
(Lame-a-saurus) Oh.

I must admit, I’m rhyming like sh!t,
with so little wit that I need an affidavit
To prove I can move to the groove,
and it would behoove you to remove
the plugs from your ear, I fear
they’ll interfere to hear my world première

(crowd) Please just go away!
(crowd) Go!
(crowd) Away!
(crowd) Go!
(crowd) Away!

I foresee no MTV for me. Yo.