[sixteen measures of repeated one-measure beat boxing before
lyrics start]
I got into my POS pimp car...
I drove down to the s**t-yo bar
I floored that f***ing b***h up to 35
That set the motherf***ing tranny on fiiiiiiiire…
Wheel covers flyin’ off the side of the road
Right wit’ mah peeps and mah hizzoooooooooes
I flipped a f***in’ bird to a yo-f***in’ b***h
And she… sh-shheeee… shhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeee…
F***ing coppa pulled me over to the side of da road
Said, “What’s your f***ing name, what’s your motherf***ing name?”
Ah said… Ah said… Ah saaaaaaaaaaid…
Chick-a chick-a (JONES), I da
Chick-a chick-a (JONES), I da
Pimp-yo (DADDY) with the
Chicky-chicky (FUNKY-FUNKY) pickle-pickle (FRESH)
Chick-a chick-a (JONES), I da
Pimp-yo (DADDY) with the
Now boy, let me tell ya, ‘cause you f***in’ oughta know
Ah said a yo, yo, yo, and a yicky-yicky yo
And a wick-zick ficky with a jicky-ticky mo
With a floopy-fluppy grippy and a yo-f***in’ ‘Fro
A ring-a-ding-a-dingy and a kippy-kippy zat
With a whoop-scroop-puppy and a litta bit o’ phat
Kappa kappa gamma and a whippy-skippy grat
A whoops flip sappy, get a f***in’ load o’ dat
Jigga-jigga ziggy and a
Zigga-zigga jiggy and a
Meep-meep plippy and a
Pleep-pleep mippy and a…
[to Refrain]
What? a What? and a
Whoop-Whoop Flicky?
Whatcha doin’ here try to mess with my Wicky?
I said not to touch it, and now I’m going Shicky
I’m flippin’, I’m flippin’, you’re a** turnin’ Zicky
Pimp-yo coppa try to flip with my G’s
Yo yo messin’ with my big can o’ peas
No way wicky wicky schlickin’ to my trees
My G-funk homey gonna walk to my B’s
[spoken by fat white guy]
Can you imagine this? I was truckin’ my way in the grocery store, and alls of a sudden, this freaky old lady cuts in front of me and grabs the last can of pickles. I can’t believe she did that. I could have killed her. I could’ve literally killed her. And all of a sudden, I found myself awake in these yellow, brown, and magenta-colored hills surrounded by these rappers and this out-of-place white guy who thinks he’s a rapper. I mean, come on, what does he think he’s doing? And then I got up, looked at the freaky white guy, and said… said… umm… I can’t remember, something… I don’t know. Well, anyways…
[Refrain]
[Robert Plant vocals]
Mah POS caaaaaaaahhhhhh
Mah POS caaaaaaaahhhhhh
Everybody mock mah POS caaaaaahhhhh
Mah POS POS caaahhhhh caaaaahhhhhh
Mah POS POS caaaaaaahhh
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? [screamed to brief John Bonham
drumbeat, which ends after screaming]
Everything be baaaaaaaaaad for da…
[Refrain]
[spoken by same white guy; at same time, soft wailing by Robert
Plant gradually crescendos (hey, imagine that, an actual musical term in the
directions of a rap song, wonder if rappers actually know what this means) into
a scream by the end of the speech, drowning out pasty white guy, ending the
song]
And… and… it got really bad!
Really bad, I mean! This…
this dream, when I woke up, well, I thought I woke up, and after that… I
– I didn’t know my name! I woke up with
amnesia or amniotic fluid or something or whatever it is, and so, it’s like, I
kept saying to myself, “My name is… what?
My name is… wait, who? My name
is… huh? My name is…how? My name is… Stan? No… Shlim Skadey? No… Rainbow Skittle? M&M? Hershey
Bar?” I was really screwed up. And all of the sudden, I heard this cheesy,
monotonous rhythm in the background which kept repeating and repeating as I
said the same thing as before, over and over… I made no sense, really… people
around me thought I was going insane… then I was babbling about some sort of
vanilla-flavored frozen water… I was going insane… was going insane… going
insane… insane… [drowned out here by Plant]
[scream held for seven seconds, then fades out for end of song]