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The Jesters ... Shoulda Got 2
© by The Jesters (see also the legal notice). For personal use only.
*** Shoulda Got 2 ***
Here’s the tale of a neat little gadget,
I first learned about it while I was in a cab.
It’s like a habit on a nun… Or was it a monk?
This tool helps out with my habit: the funk.
I'm mixin' up rhymes like a wacked-out baker,
I've got better pipes than an Indian Fakir,
And I play them all night, I'll go on till dawn,
I took so much Vivarin I won't even yawn.
But when I'm drivin' home I'll fall asleep at the wheel.
I want to make it there so I can fall down on my
Sealy Posturepedic matress and lie there all day.
My cat gets pissed off 'cause I won't even play
That little game with the bird and string.
I only get up when the doorbell rings.
The postman is there, he's got a package, I guess.
I would've got it sooner if it went UPS.
I know just what it is and I tear open the box,
And I say, "It's just right," like Goldilocks.
You know, I only ordered one, but I shoulda got two,
It's my whoseewhatsitfunkamaticthingamadoo.
chorus:
I only ordered one, but I shoulda got 2.
I only ordered one, but I shoulda got 2.
I only ordered one, but I shoulda got 2.
I only ordered one, but I shoulda got 2,
I opened up the box, and there's way too few.
He's beatboxin', like a funky-fly coxsain.
This lyrical stroke will affect you like a toxin,
Makin' you shake, scream, moan, and shiver.
When it comes to the groove we always deliver
On time, and that's no lie.
I'm like a bricklayer 'cept I'm layin' down rhymes,
buildin' the foundation of the house of jive.
Why don't you come over at five?
See, we'll dance all night, we'll dance all day,
we'll even put on a funky play
With a funky plot and funky sets.
But we might be hungry then, so let's
Make some food, we'll make some rolls.
Why don't you get out the bowls?
And I'll even mix up some funky stew
With my whoseewhatsitfunkamaticthingamadoo.
(chorus)
We’re up on stage, we’ve been playin’ all night,
When I look around-somethin’ isn’t quite right.
Then I spy you in the corner and see just how smug you are.
I don’t have to wait, I go straight for your jugular vein.
I’m in pain from your attitude.
You’ve got a notch in your belt for each woman you’ve screwed.
So sit tight for a minute, just let me propound
Some of the virtues of gettin’ on down.
Just dance, fool, no one really cares
How you look, what you where, or how many shares
Of stock you own. I bemoan the way
A man’s worth is judged by the money he’s paid.
But stop me now, I’m gettin’ too serious,
So *%^$, I just want you to hear me ‘cause
If not you’ll get an old school beating too,
From my whoseewhatsitfunkamaticthingamadoo.
(chorus) x 2
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