-> "In Da Scrub"
Original Song Title:
"In Da Club"
(MP3)
Parody Song Title:
"In Da Scrub"
Parody Written by:
Nib Oswald
The Lyrics
Ute. Ute.
Ute. Ute.
Ute. Ute.
Hits 40. Brittle earth breaks.
A whole swarm of flies and we're thirst-ay.
Our bodies nipped by mozzie bites, get the first aid.
And you know we brought us a truck that is the worst, hey!
We're just riding in da scrub, throttle full ahead.
Wallabies are making tracks. Our ute is all caked in mud.
We enter the outback, the heat really baking up.
Our camp is riddled with bugs, getting into all our rugs.
We're hiking in da scrub. Bottlebrushes, logs,
An army of giant ants that eat all our cake and buns.
I'm into Abo chants, but aint into eatin' grubs.
So come on, get really stuffed. We're dehydrated and lost.
Fill my gullet at pubs with my friends, those yobs.
Then I roll in my Jeep to spend a while in da scrub.
Get to drive the truck all day down these bonza dunes and rocks.
All our snakes are venomous and we're overrun with crocs.
The Yowie pains from his mange, can't drown fleas, nup.
So we flip bunyip the bird, then sniggering we speed off.
When we're fresh out of fuel we must hike a whole damn day for a pump.
Or get with some black girls, I just hope we'll get a hump.
In the bush hide your babies, preying dingos attack.
Oh crikey, how'd Crocodile Dundee like the outback?
The Nullarbor Plain is huge, bigger than most of our locals
Set up camp cuz it seems our map's made up by yokels
These crawling insects man, all run up my behind.
I got these bull ants and millipedes twirling inside.
Hits 47. Feeling half-fried, I'm peeling ya know.
Exhausted, gunna soon die and be skeletal bones.
We're just riding in da scrub, throttle full ahead.
Wallabies are making tracks. Our ute is all caked in mud.
We enter the outback, the heat really baking up.
Our camp is riddled with bugs, crawling into all our rugs.
We're hiking in da scrub. Bottlebrushes, logs,
An army of giant ants that eat all our cake and buns.
I'm into Abo chants, but aint into eatin' grubs.
So come on, get really stuffed. We're dehydrated and lost.
My ute- caput! What bloody good?
Now stuck out in hot desert plains.
Some trip, too vast! No tools, such fools!
We're buggered tryin' to scale past this giant range.
And as we rough it, pray more that we make it.
Figures! This aint what I meant when I said ‘isolated'.
A wombat and galah toasted on a wood fire.
Is that Waltzing Matilda flaunting woollen attire?
Now we hunt for a luncheon a la scrub cuisine,
We eat some goanna bits and a thylacine.
Gunna spew. Indigestion, this bushtucker churns.
Soon my walking will be runny squats and oh dang, it burns!
Here in hell we got no toilet paper, get us 4-ply bark.
Indigenous natives cachinnate, watching whiteys hike past.
Soon we'll be outside and have a forty-inch sub.
Till then, we're just stuck in here
We're just riding in da scrub, throttle full ahead.
Wallabies are making tracks. Our ute is all caked in mud.
We enter the outback, the heat really baking up.
Our camp is riddled with bugs, crawling into all our rugs.
We're hiking in da scrub. Bottlebrushes, logs,
An army of giant ants that eat all our cake and buns.
I'm into Abo chants, but aint into eatin' grubs.
So come on, get really stuffed. We're dehydrated and lost.
[talking:]
Don't try to act like you know where to head, dickhead!
In da scrub with the flies, flick ‘em. Take this route and get lost quicker.
Westpac unit?!
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Voting Results
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Pacing: | 4.1 | |
How Funny: | 4.1 | |
Overall Rating: | 4.1 | |
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Total Votes: | 14 |
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