---

That's vulgar cone, mental lowrider
His job from fate - trouble provider
Pushing through life pointlessly ranting
His sloppy lies ain't so enchanting
The final stage of the ol'clap
Fucked up his head, altered the chap
Made him believe - it's ain't no fun
He was the son of evil one

No fuckin' chance - no-one to hold ya
No fuckin' way - ain't no caress
Do your snake dance - no-one will stroke ya
You hollow grave will be a mess

He was conceived by God knows that
What could have spawned such a bad lot?
His thoughts are dirty, his language vile
He feeds on rests from a trash pile
A widescreen squint, tall as a desk
Lonely at school - it was a grotesque
Broads looked at him in all dismay
He wanted sex - he had to pay

No fuckin' chance - no-one to hold ya
No fuckin' way - ain't no caress
Do your snake dance - no-one will stroke ya
You hollow grave will be a mess

When they say: go away!
Disregard he'll display
And they plea: "could you stop?"
But their plans always flop
They wish he'd fall asleep
To get rid of the creep

No fuckin' chance - no-one to hold ya
No fuckin' way - ain't no caress
Do your snake dance - no-one will stroke ya
You hollow grave will be a mess

No fuckin' chance - no-one to hold ya
No fuckin' way - ain't no caress
Do your snake dance - no-one will stroke ya
You hollow grave will be a mess

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.