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Africa Just Wants To Have Fun


Africa Just Wants To Have Fun Lyrics

Sick of your crucificool
Cootchy-coo, look at you, cootchy-coo,
look at you, and you're a
Heck of a champion too
Hands to god, 'rena rock,
hold the poor, in your heart, flash'em the
Shades and the leather perfume
Smell of God, martyr fool,
win their hearts, king of tools, king of the
'Mericans, Africans,
holding hands, buying pants

I'm on top of the new new thing
Gonna get the new line of bling, and I'll
Shine shine shine shine like a white god
natives gonna worship me
I woulda done it anyhow, so I'll
Buy it up buy it all right now, because
Africa just wants to have some fun

In the land where nothing grows, nobody even knows
Nobody knows that it's a Chrissamuss, What do they do
without the Chrissamuss, ooh
Lets go on a safari, show these jungle cats how to
This desert is so beautiful, hey lets make a music
video, yeah
Me and the natives will be singin' holdin' hands we
gonna stop all the violence in this land
I'm gonna set this world straight, I'm suckin' dick at
the G-8, but
I'm not the only one lickin' choads at this safari
Clear channel men fellatiate me, censor me and
proliferate me

VERSE 2 (yelled)
Where'd ya get that jacket, Bo-no?
Where'd ya get those shades, Robo-Cop?
You and your little booby Bobby,
Sellin' the new Spanish gold

Everyone out on the floor
Its supergroup pop for the poor
Savin' our souls at the store
Savin' us all from the horror
Let your martryrs arms
Bear the winds
Of the wind machine, wind machine

Gonna get a little drunka tonight, gonna get a little
drunka tonight, gonna get a little
Gonna get f*cked up tonight, gonna get f*cked up
tonight ee-aigh-ee-aight,
Me and the kids are pickin' fun at you, we're pickin'
fun pickin' fun pickin' fun at you
Cuz when you're actin' like Christ on the cross, you
look ridiculous OOHH
I admit it I don't know what to do, I don't know I
don't know what to do
But I know what not to do, and I know the smell of your
leather perfume, it smells like
Death to me, smells like piss on a fire, smells like
toxic fumes at a maquiladora
Where'd ya get that shirt asshole
Whncha make Whncha make up your mind
Are you bored Are you bored or inspired? Well either
You just came to shoot your load off the stage
A pacifier for a nation of beige
After your concert and at the G-8
You came to party yeah you came to get laid

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these lyrics are submitted by kaan

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