-> "Luke"
Original Song Title:
"Lose Yourself"
Parody Song Title:
"Luke"
Parody Written by:
Nib Oswald
The Lyrics
Luke... if you can... shut up... for proper community... we'll increases
any body part you one longer... one installment... will you attach a bit...
to your half-an-inch? No?
His bum is smelly. Cheese reeks from his belly.
Almond shreds wet his garments reddy. Tum confetti.
He's perverse. But even more worse is for some and many,
he pops puns. Hey darn, they aren't pretty!
What a class clown, his ass flashed to those around.
He passed a sound for show that just gassed the town.
Quick, hit him, pow! We all want to get him now.
This c*ck's loudmouth, proud though he's not endowed!
Crap, back to insanity. Poop in ass cavity.
Whoops, broken lavatory! The Pope's a travesty.
Jokes that cause casualties, won't Luke stop gabbin' these?
Nope, he's too sad to freeze hopeless gags happening.
Cope with unravelling rope of lame profanity?
No, well you homies should go roam over back to the
Black bitter shack of your friends, I won't rap for them.
Eminem? Better off listening to him!
(Try not to) Luke Yourself in amusement.
A loner with no-one, it is a joke for me you know.
You only have gun shots to stop piss-weak antic shows.
Must stop-a-mutiny succumb for a lifeline to go.
(You get to) Luke Yourself in bemusement.
Like Homer and donuts, you'd better never let me go.
I will only shut up for body enlargement tools.
Proper community counts on my lethargy, fools!
My old and flaking, humour bowls you for eighteen
It's irked, ageing and degrading. Jake Ralphing?
If I scorned your car, then hot mortar
Would very soon be pouring over the Ford
you boast. And most aweing, your toast I'd be gnawing.
The walls would all be appalled with poor drawings.
Nose filled with hose water? Gross and so corny.
Clothes won't be worn on me, no, I'm too horny.
I snort with glee following four-degree saunas.
Then store iguana faeces with Pete's fauna.
Adorn the lawn with porn sleaze for pure morning.
Followed by more frog spawn to greet the dawning.
Get kicked out, clouted with trout and sprouts.
I should've heeded your warning, stopped being retarding.
Suppose I'm exposed for photo shows, how boring.
Facetiousness slows, but-I'm-at-it-ag-ain.
(Poo wetter) Luke Yourself and accuse it
On groaning and moaning, there's a vendetta on my show.
I'm gunna have gum rot from plot-lacking chants you know.
All of this food-in-me comes out of my pants in flows!
(Shoe petter) Luke Yourself, you are sick
Of sub-par tricks. Lethargic, becoming decrepit and slow.
Will pot-heads please unclot this hot dev-el-oped ego.
Big as your mumma's but and starting to grow!
I'm poor, lame, just a game that has no aim.
Hairy rather yucky d*ck clumps, I thump Nic Cage.
I was playing with my appendage, glued shut the page.
Chewed a garden to spew rhubarbs and sage.
Butt gets a hidin', buffets for cretinous writing.
Vest and sleeves, your buddies pray for less typing.
All the waning jive can't defy my dis-tracting
Highly irritating one-liners. Cripes!
When I desist p*ssing off you guys with gibe as-dry as your-eyes
I'll die right there, yeah I am hyper!!!
Wipe that smile off of your dial or I'll swipe it
Fry it in fire pits.
My rhymes are try hard. Betting these are retarded
Lied to breed a daughter from pee, pu plus foetal water
Bought a cheap Jeep teeming with otters fleeing Iraq's border
Are you getting hotter from the snotty stuff I pop after another
Day of grot? Lovely tales are not made fit for me.
My humour's pointless, like a male I've got to
Emulate brain rot, or send up a famou plot
'Sucked best' i my only other mucking option.
'Saviour's not.
Normal would do, but this failures got to show
Luke can joke non-stop jocose hip-hop.
Jeering, I won't shut up (Geni)talia free crotch.
P*ss on the proper community and hiss 'I'm botched!'
(Hate letters) Luke Yourself, I'm just cruising.
Abusing is a losing past-time like collecting Lego.
Spread your legs for a half-inch of smegma and blow.
Or beg Greg for the exit of Meg's bordello.
(Blue sweaters) Luke Yourself, this is caustic.
Only acrim-onious like that damn Teletubby Po.
Uh-oh the warden's here with his gear: syringe and goads.
Proper community restored to order? D'oh!
You can spoof anyhihng you put your behind to, man.
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Voting Results
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Pacing: | 5.0 | |
How Funny: | 4.6 | |
Overall Rating: | 4.9 | |
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Total Votes: | 8 |
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