She wriggles and she wraggles, she jiggles and she jaggles
You stand and watch her pass by your line of vision ass-eye
You think that 'cause she smiles that you turn all her dials
But you don't see them later while in the elevator
You nag her and you swagger, you think you're gonna shag her
A man about the town, get funky, let's get down
Machismo and machasma, it turns into miasma
But you have got no class, no style
No social skills, no comprehension

I can't deal with this idiot
Yeah, I must admit that he's a punk ass bitch

You open up your mouth, amazed at what comes out
It's just a testimony that you're full of bologna
That you're a stupid shit-ass
A meathead, guido, pass-gas
But you have got no class, no style
No social skills, no comprehension

I can't deal with this idiot
Yeah, I must admit that he's a punk ass bitch
I can't deal with this idiot
Yeah, I must admit that he's a punk ass bitch
Woah, woah, woah

You know you want to spangle but you can't seem to angle
One gives you attitude, your reason to be rude
You think that 'cause she smiles that you turn all her dials
But you don't see them later while in the elevator
You nag her and you swagger, you think you're gonna shag her
A man about the town, get funky, let's get down
Machismo and machasma, it turns into miasma
But you have got no class, no style
No social skills, no comprehension

You open up your mouth, amazed at what comes out
It's just a testimony that you're full of bologna
That you're a stupid shit-ass
A meathead, guido, pass-gas
But you have got no class, no style
No social skills, no comprehension

I can't deal with this idiot
Yeah, I must admit that he's a punk ass bitch
I can't deal with this idiot
Yeah, I must admit that he's a punk ass bitch
Woah, woah, woah

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Richard W Liegey