Born in the desert of the upper east side
there was a guy who wants to party every day every night
Dressed like a martin colly hair shining bright
He got no money，got no girlfriend，he was feeling alright
Rick！
In the jeans with his head on the wall
But too bad，he had to wait until its going to fall
And after all he felt as one of the best
The time was right to take a paper car escape to the west
Rick！
You crash the party
We are waiting for an answer
but you think its alright
Rick！
Please don't worry
You're invited every day
But not on Saturday night
Oh-oh
Oh-oh！
We think good times alright
No doubt about we love you,not on Saturday night
Oh-oh Oh-oh
We think good times alright
No doubt about we love you,not on Saturday night
He is the God of his computer scene
He wants the cover picture of the Apple magazine
But in the end he has to face the fact
that even p****s do it better so he lost respect
If you want him to stay
You have to beg him to pray
Until the end of the day
He is so boring
And he is so Gay-ay-ay
Rick！
You crashed the party
We are waiting for an answer
but you think its alright
Rick！
Please don't worry
You're invited every day
but not on Saturday night
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
We think good times alright
No doubt about we love you not on Saturday night
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
We think good times alright
No doubt about we love you not on Saturday night
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
So our Rick is a boy with a harmless toy and a sawfeet has no beak
He looks like a double of Mr. Hyde or a dose of stinky meat-BALLS
Everybody knows he's ready for the job of the President of Matzan
If you know him look him over like a homo with a gun
So run cause there's no fun
If you want him to stay
You have to beg him to pray
Until the end of the day
He is so boring
And he's so Gay-ay-ay
Rick！
You crashed the party
We are waiting for an answer
but you think its alright
Rick！
Please don't worry
You're invited every day
But not on Saturday night
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
We think good times alright
No doubt about we love you not on Saturday night
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
We think good times alright
No doubt about we love you, not on Saturday night
So our Rick is a boy with a harmless toy and a sawfeet has no beak
He looks like a double of Mr. Hyde or a dose of stinky meat-BALLS
Everybody knows he's ready for the job of the President of Matzan
If you know him look him over like a homo with a gun
So run cause there's no fun