Target Dookie Wars
flamenco, electric guitar, funk, xylophoneLyrics
In the bathroom at target,
I hear a dookie war startin’
oh god,
find cover, find cover!
shit storm
smothered!
turd grenades!
all over the place!
ahhhh!
chemical gas!
I can’t breathe the shit stanks!
Febreeze! Febreeze!
we need Febreeze!
“paging any units in the vicinity!”
we got a biohazard boo-boo in the loo, cloggin’ up the pipe, and it’s got stains on the side too,
shit!
it’s everywhere dude!
9-1-1!
We need rescue!
dying in the debris of the dookie damage and the pee pee!
flooding over the tiled streets!
ahhhhh!
shit!
it’s getting on my feet!
help me!
“Sargeant! Gotta climb up on the seat!”
“Mask on, please breathe!”
“Boots in the mud, or in this case Shit’s creek…”
Good gah dayum man this muh fucka stink,
I can see the, sewage overflowin’ in the muh fuggin’ sink,
and I’m like, damn, that’s gross, now I wanna puke and I just ate cheese,
so if I puke it’ll be nasty,
and like oh Christ I don’t wanna taste that,
coated on my teeth, just hangin’ on the breath,
hell nah buddy,
shoulda just left.
shoulda just left.
shoulda just left.
fuck that bathroom.
shoulda just left.
target, you’re better than this…
shoulda just went to Meijer…
fuck you nuke dookie taker.
ruined my trip to target.
I had to call the fire department!
do you comprehend the unfortunate boner enlargement,
that follows a hot fireman carrying you out like a damsel in distress!?
man!
I was in joggers!
if I woulda known,
I’d have worn a dress!
fuck!
do this at Walmart!
I’m not impressed!
this is target!
it’s high class!
fuck!
kiss my ass!