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bo burnham – i’m bo yo (live at the aladdin theatre) lyrics

now i don’t know if all boy scouts are g-y
but they could probably “tie the knot” in like fifty different ways
i’ve got a safe full of cherries
‘cause i pop it and lock it
a girl’s like a fridge
once a week you should stock it
and girl, if your into a rimmin’
it’s only safe if you’re swimmin’
but girl don’t sit on that couch
‘cause i treat my objects like women
i spit fire like i just blew a demon
my sh-ts so hot i’ll leave your toilet bowl steamin’
i’m gonna tarot like the cards of the gypsies
you’ll bleed for so long you’ll get monthly ellipses
if your pants are loose, i’ll re-pleat ya
you’re a first time vegan and it’s nice to meet ya

‘cause i’m bo yo! i’m the greatest rapper ever
and i’ll weather your weather whether you think i’m clever or not
think you’re better? you’re not
don’t need a sweater; i’m hot
i’m a real g that can really find your g-spot…

go to a v-g-n- orchard. count 1, 2, 3
spin that plant around and you’ve got a third world country
that’s right! consider yourself warned
i’m offensive and creative like handicapped p-rn
you’re playin’ with your br–sts, excuse me, can i try it ma’am?
you’re pushin’ them together like a t-tty venn diagram
look at that crack! excuse me, can i buy a gram?
right below your diaphragm, -ss looks like you’re hidin’ ham

first base, we’re making out
second base, i’m getting faked out yo
third base, i’m getting take out
and i’d try to take it home if i knew i’d take it out
but i just don’t know
i said i just don’t care
i said my flow is so cold (that)
i need a tampon from a polar bear
and you can spell and you can smell my stink
‘cause b.o. lingers and it makes you think

it was all a dream, i used to read a quick nick magazine
ren and stimpy, tommy pickles and the games between
watching tv in the dark
every sat-rday double dare with my main man marky mark
summers, falls, winters and springs
i’ve seen [23] sets. cut me open count the rings
but i wish that i could be 8, 9, or 10
wearing “life is good” t-shirts that made sense back then
you wanna know me? well here’s a list;
when i tried to hit p-b-rty i swung and i missed
i like palindromes like “do geese see god?”
or “go hang a salami, i’m a lasagna hog.”
and i can do a rubik’s cube in a minute twenty
fast food and the internet’s plenty for me
i’m simple with one dimple
and a weird mole thing on my left nipple

i’m part of the fattest country on the global scale
and we’re “phat” with a ph on the ph scale
because we’re so basic

i’m a little kid in a cave, yo
just starin’ at my shadows and playin’ with play-doh
oh hey yo, aristotle, i got some hemlock, let’s share a bottle
oh, too soon. i was socra-teasin’
let’s drink hot chocolate, think, talk, reason
oh my, oh me ah. i think i’ll ‘see ya
if i want a piece of greece, then i’ll pirate “mama mia.”

schwinn road k!ll – bicycle victim
is that my dog? yeah, i michael vick’d him
put a pic of my nuts as my profile pic
and your girl cl!cked it, liked it, and l!cked it
my attempt is, check the tenses so the flow don’t stop
in the future you’ll be p-ssed out like a present with a bow on top. oh!

now, give us a house and a car and a kid
so we can raise it, praise it, blaze it up
and get lasik to see how bad we f-cked it up

we all had braces. our smiles are fake
another mother saw her hotter daughter’s water break
the miley cyrus virus is as bad as it gets
and similarly as bad as simile tourette’s
cause like it’s like i like my right to like
but like i also have like a life to write, right?
wrong. this is a road k!ll song
about a kid who followed the bouncing ball during the sing along
i’m a little teapot who’s steaming mad
because the world’s not careful cause i’m hot…
(1, 2, f-ck you)

i take a stroll around the block to relax my mind
and then i walk by the clock just to p-ss the time
and rhymin’, mathematical timin’
syntax impacts the intact hymen
trust me, you don’t want to f-ck with me
check my record. wrecked it on my sat’s
i got a 780 math, 730 verbal
kick a jonas brother and he’ll fart out a gerbil

voice so sweet, call me mr. (herbal) t
more deadly than joseph goebbel’s pee
in a swastika dixie cup
i’ve got a d-ck full of helium; i’ll f-ck you up!

put down your fists ‘cause it’s a battle of wits
and if you bring your facts sis
just the cattle with t-ts
and i’ll get mad at their zits
and paddle their bits
with saddles and whips
and rattle their cl-ts . . . that was rude

yo, so girls are like donuts when i be bustin’ bo nuts;
i can make ‘em cream-filled or give them a layer of glaze
i’m like doug’s friend skeeter whenever i meet her
‘cause i skeet her so hard you could call her patty mayonnaise
my girl is epileptic cause shes the one i’m jerkin with
common you asian child laborer show me what your workin’ with…

cause theres an inverse relationship between respect and sects
i’m talking about religious sects like a mormon sect
that says you can’t have s-x with members of different sects
but you can’t have s-x with members of the same s-x
so if the sects can’t be different, the s-x can be same
then the only s-x left is some left hand shame
and girl i left you ‘cause you left the game
and if that don’t feel right then u can write my name

look past the skin and look to the lyrics
i run miracle circles around you like spherical lyrics
this isn’t about ironic pigment
if you’re imagining this then i’m a chronic figment

my junks so long that it hangs and swings
so at the nude beach people think i’m lookin’ for lost rings
play the skin flute while your big boy sings
and if you want to take it all wear african neck rings

haters call me g-y, but that ain’t hatin’
‘cause i’m not h0m-phobic, my morals are straight and
if i’m in the closet then you are below me
taking the b-a-t out of bas-m-nt, homie

yeah
yo, yeah, what?
cause i’m bo, yo and i’m the greatest rapper ever
and i’ll weather your weather whether you think i’m clever or not
think you’re better? you’re not
don’t need a sweater-
i’m a real g that can really find your what now!
oh, yeah!
cause i’m bo yo, yo, what?
i’m representing you
i’m representing the people from the 01982 yo
oh yeah
what?
yo, mother f-cker
tinkle
yeah

- bo burnham lyrics

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