The world is a toll-free toilet
Our mouths neurological assholes
And psychologically speaking
We're in a state of mental diarrhoea
Talking shit a mile a minute
Or in a state of constipated notions
Can't think of nothin' but shit
And in this world of stinkin' futures
Shitty memories
Constipated 19 now-nows
Emerges from the hiney of your head
The DooDoo Chasers
The Promentalshitbackwashpsychosisenemasquad
The prune juice of the mind
The DooDoo Chasers
Friends of roto-rooter
Bringing you music
To get your shit together by
The band in the tidy bowl of your brain
(What was that long word again (?) Promental (?))
Promentalshitbackwashpsychosisenemasquad
A musical bowel movement
Designed to rid you of moral diarrhoea
Social bullshit, crazy DooDoo, mental poops
They call us the unflushables
One swipe a clean wipe (Go flush it, fellas)
And what's cause of all of this shit?
What is the source of food for thought?
Ego-munchies, images (?) doggie bags
A my burger with I sauce on it
A me burger with I sauce on it
A myself sandwich, a personal burger, a hamburger
And a glass of constricted cola
Out to lunch with lunch meat
The fear of being eaten by a sandwich
The Promentalshitbackwashpsychosisenemasquad
The DooDoo Chasers, friends of roto-rooter
Music to clean your shit by (?)
Low calorie logic, muscle brains, skinny brains
Count the calories of your thoughts
Funk, confucius says like chinese laxatives
Sweet and sour bowel movements
And in this world of stinky memories
Spanking memories, shitty futures
19 now nows-constipated-like
Where is the DooDoo Chaser?
The prune juice of the mind
The band in the tidy bowl of your brain
Bringing you music
To put your shit together by
Funk, the pee preparation
The prune juice of the mind
A mental musical bowel movement
Groovalax, one swipe a clean wipe
And with no extra charge
A psychological turd remover
A neurological enema, holy shit
(Let me try one-crap)
Corpolites (?) prehistoric DooDoo
Helping you get your shit together
Backstage at a Funkadelic rehearsal
We bring you the DooDoo chasers
(Which one is George Clinton?)
Out to lunch with lunch meat, once again
The fear of being eaten by a sandwich
Lunchville, where lunch is a nice time
Of day at least twice a week
And Fried Ice Cream is a reality
And Fried Ice Cream is a reality
And Fried Ice Cream is a reality
And Fried Ice Cream is a reality
And Fried Ice Cream is a reality
(Which one is George Clinton?)
Fried Ice Cream is a reality
Fried Ice Cream is a reality
Fried Ice Cream is a reality
Fried Ice Cream is a reality
Fried Ice Cream is a reality
