Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha

Got a shit-eating grin Bitch, show me them itty-bitty titties again We're in Sin City, since when did we begin to get dignity? No diggity, bitch, you need to run and go get your figgity-friends I'm lookin' at your bum-stiggity-bum, hun The miggity mack's biggity back, don't act wiggity-wack You can get the figgity-finger: the middle You little dizzy bitch, sit and spiggaty-spin Got a 6 o'clock cravin', stop, get Cîroc It's 'bout to be an unbelievable night I'll call it surreal, Sir Mix-a-Lot tape in Hit the spot, spot my next victim I'm picky like I missed a spot shavin' Came to sip vodka, shit, yeah, that little chick is hot But if she got rabies I wouldn't give the bitch a shot I'd poke her in the rear, but I bet if I lick her, she'll try to chase me (Ha ha!) What are you: pit, rott, mixed? Oh, you just got fixed, well shit, then let's lip-lock If not, then trick, piss off, you snobby little pig snot nose You think you're hot shit 'cause you're in heat Well, bitch, if you're solar, then I'm your polar opposite, dog 'Cause I'm colder than popsicle sticks, poppin' shit Talkin' it, walkin' it, spit boxin' My sick thoughts are 'bout to lick shots, like the shit's sobbin' And drip-droppin' in chocolatey whip-toppin' So whether you're hip-hop, Slipknot, B.I.G., Pac Kid Rock, Kris Kross, Rick Ross You'll dig this; if not, then kick rocks in flip flops! And I produced the track So you don't have to ask who it is when this shit knocks (Turn up!) So crank the volume 'til it's bangin' and I'ma keep on sayin' All the shit I should be hung for and probably killed for sayin' And I probably will, but not until the day I pop a pill again Like Joplin 'til I drop, and still If that don’t do the job of killin' Shady, then the karma will They sayin' I must bring it as Mohammad Until the Parkinson's done ate away my brain And made me Robin Williams crazy Or I end up with dementia, but you rockin' with a sadist Hate to say this, but if the thought is entertainin' I ain't stoppin' til we explain it Oh my god, for real, man, not again, I'm shakin' But before I tie a rope around this nob If they don't like it, got a knob that they can slob on until it's— Wait, I just forgot what I was thinkin'… What's it called again? I'm blankin' The thing above the balls between my legs And I think that I can feel it dangling, it's throbbing and it's veiny Wait, I think that I got it, okay Bitch, I got you, (Robin Williams hangin') Bitch, don't hang in the lobby unless you came to slob me Come on, kemosabe, it's past time like your favorite hobby 'Cause of the way that I spit she remains on my dick Then she grab me by the nuts And try to take my sausage as a hostage Ain't it obvious? Pretty much a no-brainer Or should I say Cobainer? That she's plain addicted to my dick like Lorena Bobbitt Gotta wean her off it, weiner off it Like she took my fucking penis, chopped it And stuck it up between her armpit And she begun to swing a karambit knife and paint the carpet At least that's what her train of thought is 'Cause I came, saw, conquered it Hit it, quit it, and made her plain b-bonkers And I always end up giving these bitches a complex And I don't mean apartment So spread your feet apart And let me see you do some yoga stretches, splits Now grab this Cuisinart And make me breakfast, bitch, that's a prerequisite And that's just to get in this bedroom, bitch Walked up to that Ke$ha chick (what up?) Said my name is Booger, wanna catch a flick? I'll even let you pick, make her fetch a stick Bet you if you give this old dog these new tricks To get familiar with I learned extra quick Kick a pregnant bitch, oops, I guess the shit Took an unexpected twist like the neck of the freaking exorcist Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-ch Bitch, I said that this mask ain't for hockey Hate Versace, Versace, I got Münchhausen by proxy I'm making you sick, don't pretend you can't hear me You deaf, girl, I said you was foxy I'll tell a bitch like Bizarre Bitch, shut the fuck up and get in my car! And suck my fucking dick while I take a shit And I think with my dick, so come blow my mind And it tastes like humble pie, so swallow my pride You're lucky just to follow my ride If I let you run alongside the Humvee Unless you're Nicki, grab you by the wrist, let's ski So what's it gon' be? Put that shit away, Iggy You gon' blow that rape whistle or me? (Squee!) I love it, love it, love it 'Fore I get lost we're gettin' off Like this is our exit, now let's hit the highway And try not to get lost 'til we get to Las Vegas

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow, no sorrow) Vegas 'Til we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'til tomorrow) Vegas 'Till we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'til tomorrow, no sorrow) Vegas 'Til we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'til tomorrow) Vegas

Whatever happens here, stays here So let's go all the way dear 'Til we get to Las Vegas

Whatever happens in my room, it stays in my room Like movie night like cable Treat every women in my stable like flavors Lick her like she kryptonite and I get weak after like 7 days And 7 nights in the Days Inn, it's Hot Vegas We roll in circles and packs, we the lifesavers She got a boyfriend, I got a toy then I'll bring it with me when I show up to her crib wavin' And I ain't tryna meet a nice neighbor I'm so Jay Electronic, I'm cut like I'm all out of razors And all I got is a gun left with a bayonet on it Neck so frozen it look like I walked in a jewelry store With about a million dollars with your mama And sat down and did an ALS challenge Haaaan! I stole that adlib from French Bad & Evil back at it again About to get my back tatted again About to get a pic of a backstabber with an axe in his hand Sittin' on a bike in the sand If you ain't been through nothin' Then that shouldn't mean nothin' to you like likes on the 'Gram If she current, I keep her pussy purrin' like the pipes on a Lamb Weed got her so chinky-eyed Look like she been gettin' high on a flight to Japan I keep my jewelry on while I'm fuckin' Sound like I'm shakin' up dice in a can Listen, though this ain't Christmas I make you my ex miss if this is my passion I learn to give those who don't appreciate my presence The gift of my absence I don't know who you been listenin' to Got me fucked up like Pookie in the chicken coop Bitch, I don't give a two shits (Bitch, get the fuck out of my face!) To make a long story short, I don't really gotta stand there And listen to you while you throw a silly tantrum Even though I have an affinity for a witty banter Startin' to feel like foulplay like Billy Laimbeer Hold up, she misunderstood me, I said say, por favor Thought I said the Wraith had four doors I knock a nigga face off Give him the bottom of the 9 like a baseball scoreboard (whatever) I leave the club with my tab still open Won't even get a cab for you and yo' friend The only fear I have is of loathin' And I won't even kick in 'til we get to Las Vegas

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow, no sorrow) Vegas 'Til we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'til tomorrow) (No sorrows) Vegas 'Till we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'til tomorrow, no sorrow) Vegas 'Til we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'til tomorrow) Vegas

Whatever happens here, stays here So let's go all the way dear 'Til we get to Las Vegas