Bloodhound Gang Lyrics

Overview / Lyrics (see all) / Photos / Videos / News

Mope Lyrics

from Hooray For Boobies

"Mope" is track #12 on the album Hooray For Boobies. It was written by Gill, Peter / O'toole, Mark William / Johnson, William (gb 1) (aka Holly Jo / Bolland, Ferdinand D. / Bolland, Robert J. / Falco, . / Burton, Clifford Lee / Ulrich, Lars / Hetfield, James Alan.
Edit
"Mope" is track #12 on the album Hooray For Boobies. It was written by Gill, Peter / O'toole, Mark William / Johnson, William (gb 1) (aka Holly Jo / Bolland, Ferdinand D. / Bolland, Robert J. / Falco, . / Burton, Clifford Lee / Ulrich, Lars / Hetfield, James Alan.
For Example...
What chart rank did the song debut? What is the song about? Has it won any awards?, etc.
Cancel Submit
Thank You For Your Submission
Your introduction will appear once it has been deemed awesome by our team of wizards.
  • Play Video
  • Correct
  • Print

Mope Submit Correct Lyrics

Submit Corrections Cancel

We gonna drop this next bomb
For a money makin' playa that ain't with us no mo'
Yeah, Notorious B.I.G.

Hell no, we gonna do this
For a gangbangin' thug that never seen it comin'
Yeah, Tupac Shakur

Nah bitch, I'm talkin' 'bout
Motherfuckin' Falco and shit
What? Falco?

Ooh, rock me, Amadeus, ooh, rock me, Amadeus
Ooh, rock me, Amadeus, ooh, rock me, Amadeus
Ooh, rock me, Amadeus, ooh, rock me, Amadeus
Ooh, rock me, Amadeus, ooh, rock me, Amadeus
Ooh, rock me, Amadeus

Tried to OD on the Cold-Eeze
'Golden Girls' got me 'Sweatin' To The Oldies'
Hanging out like Double Ds sip Long Island Iced Teas
Wrote to Mayor McCheese "Send a Shamrock Shake please"

Three o' clock on the dot, time to cruise for eighth graders
Rather tape the Weather Channel so that I can watch it later
Reruns of reruns, so what's happenin'?
Dee's knocked up and Rog on crack again

Deep throat a whole Nutty Buddy
Make whoopie to a batch of Silly Putty
Make a Spam and Colgate sandwich and ate it
Go through "National Geographic" and draw panties on the natives

So I like to dance naked in front of my pets
But my cat was inattentive so I sent him U.P.S.
Playin' 'spin the bottle' with my mom
I watch "Cops" with no pants on

Must've blown a fuse nothing going on
Lamer than the Pope, climb the walls like King Kong
Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes
Deader than the parents on a 'Party of Five'

Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill
Not going nowhere, slim chance we will
Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood
Dick around like 'Frankie Goes To Hollywood'

Relax, don't do it, when you wanna go to it
Relax, don't do it, when you wanna come
Relax, don't do it, when you wanna go to it
Relax, don't do it, when you wanna come

Nowhere to go, I can't wake up late
Just sit around and wait for my Old Spice to activate
Stalemate, jailbait in 'My So-Called Life' imprisonment
Amazing what a good breakfast pickles make, isn't it?

I like to pretend I'm speed reading
Never lose the sight of the thrill of sneezing
Don't need a shower today, just some Brut by Faberge
Smell the ass of my jeans, clean, they'll do another day

And I recycle, I sniff my own farts
I dial the wrong number, hope a conversation starts
I mean I might as well be listenin' to Journey
Givin' myself a mullet hook the Flowbee to the Kirby

Make a prank call pretendin' I'm a mime
Get stuck in traffic just to pass the time
Sent a letter in the mail in Braille to Johnny Quest
Send me back my Etch-A-Sketch

Must've blown a fuse, nothing's going on
Lamer than the Pope, climb the walls like King Kong
Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes
Deader than the parents on a 'Party of Five'

Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill
Not going nowhere, slim chance we will
Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood
Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood

Relax, don't do it, when you wanna go to it
Relax, don't do it, when you wanna come
Relax, don't do it, when you wanna go to it
Relax, don't do it, when you wanna come

I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums
When you wanna cum
I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums
When you wanna cum

I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums
When you wanna cum
I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums
When you wanna cum

Yo yo yo yo yo! What it is, motherfuckers?
Aww shit, here comes Pac-Man
Hey Pac-Man, what's up?

Me, you bitches, I'm high on crack, wanna freebase?
No Pac-Man, drugs are bad, nope, can't help you man
Pussies, whoa, holy shit!

Must've blown a fuse, nothing's going on
Lamer than the Pope, climb the walls like King Kong
Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes
Deader than the parents on a 'Party of Five'

Luciano Pavoratti on a treadmill
Not going nowhere, slim chance we will
Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood
Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood

Relax, don't do it, when you wanna go to it
Relax, don't do it, when you wanna come
Relax, don't do it, when you wanna go to it
Relax, don't do it, when you wanna cum

Holy macaroni, holy macaroni
Holy macaroni, holy macaroni
Holy macaroni, holy macaroni
Holy macaroni, holy macaroni

Songwriters
GILL, PETER / O'TOOLE, MARK WILLIAM / JOHNSON, WILLIAM (GB 1) (AKA HOLLY JO / BOLLAND, FERDINAND D. / BOLLAND, ROBERT J. / FALCO, . / BURTON, CLIFFORD LEE / ULRICH, LARS / HETFIELD, JAMES ALAN

Published by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Listen to Bloodhound Gang Radio on Last.fm, Radio.com or Jango

Music News