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Paul Barrere |
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Yes you drivin' me crazy with your boom box automobile |
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Yeah you drivin' me crazy with your boom box automobile |
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Now I'd love to see you lose the keys to that menace on four wheels |
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It's so amplified... ain't no wonder why your paint's begun to peel |
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And those sub woofers hammerin' they're givin' my head a pain |
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It's either you or me if its me you see I'll jus' cop the plea... |
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Hey judge... I'm insane |
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I'm sore insane |
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You and your boom box car |
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You and your boom box car |
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Ya gone and drove me too far |
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With your boom box car |
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With all this rap dap 'o' lappin' and those bass drums a flappin |
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At a million and twenty dee bees |
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It's got my eyeballs bleadin' and my eardrums pleadin' |
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I'm beggin' mercy, please, please, please |
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But what has got me so mad is when you tell me oh dad |
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Ya 'bout as square as you can be |
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Would ya think I's neater if I blew out your tweeters |
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With this 12 guage across my knees |
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Give up the keys |
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You and your boom box car |
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You and your boom box car |
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Ya gone and drove me too far |
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With your boom box car |
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You know that back in my day we'd drive our Chevrolets |
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And take our dates way up on Blueberry Hill |
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And with very straight faces say "the submarine race |
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Well they start about a quarter 'til" |
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But now you and your clowns just like to ride around town |
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With you volume knobs at ten |
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And the only thing bangin' in your station wagon |
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Is the beat bouncin' off your head |
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Ya might be brain dead soon be stone deaf |
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From your boom box car |
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Yes your boom box car |
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You gone and drove me too far |
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In your boom box car |
