Fame

Fame
(Words and Music by: z. walters)
Fully loaded like an M-16, like walter winchell had exploded check
the inseam
take a breath and spit cause i cannot sing
if you do you're a fool gonna push you, with a stick or a pick or
a shovel fool,
wheel barrel automatic or another

but anyways back to the pooridge i was cookin
hate being lonely so i'm always overbookin
goodlookin lady make me wanna keep on lookin
but i can't stand fame
turned on my mtv, must be something wrong with me,
cause i can't see what all the dilettantes see,
we're not on teen beat magazine but we don't quite
suck like a suction machine, sell out, sell out
yeah join the team