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Lyrics:Your Mother is a Basketball

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Revision as of 16:43, 24 October 2016 by Coz (talk | contribs)
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« Song page for Your Mother is a Basketball

Lyrics

 
Your mother's so fat they didn't call Ghostbusters
Stay Puft Man was all, "I don't trust her."
In other words, she ate him.
Stay Puft Man's big, so that's how we know she's fat--
Just to clarify.

Basketball, a basketball.
Yeah, well, your mother is a basketball.
I went there: your mother is a basketball.
A basketball, she's a basketball.

Stop. Everybody take 5.
Good show, guys, but I don't feel a vibe.
Let it all out; don't hold back; incriminate.
Here on this court, you gotta push it to the limit, mate.
Reach deep inside, throw the shots, come alive. 
I'll be here tweeting the whole thing live,
So guys, be loquacious; show off your gall!
What did you say his mother was again?

A basketball. A Basketball.
 After all, she's bouncing like she had a bottle of Adderall. 
She's also fat--not sure if I mentioned that--twenty-nine 

inches wide from all sides, to be exact. 

Man, it's wack. I object! But, to change the subject, 
I double dribbled through Mom's bombs and she liked it.
Now I'm flying higher than a -- Viper,
Where you're airing free throws like a drunken sniper.


I don't believe you need a reason like you're Zeppelin Piper.
If your mother were on Tinder, I'd swipe her right cuz I like her
She's spherical, meaningful, clear and clerical,
A leather planet with the gravity that makes it equivocal 

Ooh, feeling it now, moves smooth so enjoyed
worlds hearing it now, down under to Detroit.
Pity the pal who fails to score a swish,
Never gonna hit the buzzer cuz she just won't fit!
Not that curly's bad boys,
Who fun and found it.
But the Women's NBA's not all round and rad.
Don't be round--be a man
Do they fit basketballs with gastric bands?

Oedipus Rex, Electra complex, Pegasus reigns on these state springs but I digress.
Surf's up! I board a tidal wave of jump
Your box probably don't even pump, chump.

Sup?
I got pump up box, I pump bar in my hand.
Shoots infinity points from up across this land
So you can't pass the man if you know what's best, son.
'Less you wanna become a Cuban guessing lesson.

Slam dunk, foul? May I speak to Carl?
Oh gee, oh gosh, this is all too much
Guys, I gotta confide--I'm just an actress, y'all
Picked last at the dang-blasted casting call.

some games don't have winners
some chickens don't end up on plates for dinners,
They contain the innards 
But we know the sun will always rise and always fall
And that your mother will always be a basketball

Basketball, a basketball. If you're listening, your mother is a basketball.
That's right, you! Your mother is a basketball.
She's a basketball, bouncing faster all,
over the rainbow in the stair,
Somehow, somewhere, somewhere, somewhere.