Lyrics
Born in the wrong decade, fun’s become a crime.
This ain’t my race, that’s afraid to speak their mind.
The younger they are the deader they are
Don’t know how to laugh at themselves.
Chasing every skirt you find’s, a way to pass the time
Circling an invisible tail, you bounce from side to side
Find me a chick who cooks better than ma,
And knows how to suck dick.
There was a line buried in the sand
And it passed through an Arabs hand
The words were no mistake; they were brutal and they were great