"Jimmy's Pastry Fuck Stick"

Little Jimmy was born retarted.
Mom was giving birth and then she farted.
Methane, toxic, entered his brain.
His cock fell of. sorrow. pain.

Chorus:
I don't care what you say,
Little Jimmy is gonna be okay.
He'll live his life, peeing sitting down.
He has to piss, he starts to frown.

This helluva pathetic, retarted boy,
decided he wanted a dangling toy.
He wanted to make a meat rocket,
using double chicken Hot pockets.

Chorus again.

Oh no, the here come the ants!
They're the Nazis of pastry fileld pants.
They took away Jimmy's microwavable, tasty schlong.
That was, it... he wasn't that strong.

He decided "Enough is enough!" 
He took dad's forty five. Too ka huff and a puff.
He pulled the trigger, and now he's dead.
A home-made bullet, in his head.

doctor Farley realized Jim was really a girl.
What he caused made him hurl. 
"My mistake killed him!" the doctor said.
Guess what? Now the doctor's dead. 

Another home-made bullet in another head.

Turn's out Jimmy's dad was gay,
with the doctor; they'd fuck all day.
Without the life of his son or lover.
He decided, his life should be over.

Bang, now three are gone.
Ching chang foon wang pan-moon-John.
I don't know what I'm saying now.
All I know is, I ate the poo of a mad cow.

Oh, and Bill Cosby is cool.
But he peed in my swimming pool.