Hey Janelle, fuck you! You're not my real mom and you can't tell me what to do I will skate and ride and smoke and do all sorts that I deem dope I don't need you ragging on me I don't respect authority Heavy rap and scrambler action is the life for me Hey Todd, you dick! How come you can smoke fegs in our Front room when I get chewed for doing zip? I'm aged around ten, but I'm a man defrauding ATMs No parental control - get in my face, I'll kick your hole My best made is so rad, ginger attitude is bad Kyle Reese is my dad Wolfie, best dog I ever had And you know that I don't give a fuck At Afterburner I do not suck Back off, dipshit, understand Uncle Bob will lift you with one hand Yeah maybe I like explicit lyrics! Yeah maybe I like home taping and titty magazines And sniffing glue and drinking Coors and tossing my hair to one side What are you gonna do about it, Poindexter? Free style living is the way for me Riding in a helicopter blasting Public Enemy Playing all my tapes and coining up the Gallery About my Mom I have the deepest of deep feels I'm no longer in the canon as of summer '97 They tried to bring me back but the franchise went to heaven But my radness lives on through the kids who sing this song When they try to shine you on You just tell 'em 'She's not my mother, Todd.'