ramones – don’t bust my chops lyrics
[verse 1]
i’m sick and tired of you calling me names
i’m sick and tired of your childish games
i’m sick and tired of your bullsh-t brats
cocaine stupor and anxiety attacks
picked up the magazine, i see your face
you’re nothing boy, a godd-mn waste
with the lamest fashions on your back
you’re never happy, a hypochondriac
[chorus]
don’t bust my chops, baby, don’t bust my chops
yeah!
[verse 2]
you’re a styling queen and an alley cat
too many chocolates keep a fat man fat
you’re a pain in the -ss, and your on the (loose)
all i get from you is your bad att-tude
dirty mouth, it’s all i can bear
get out of here b-tch, because you’re nowhere
always wearing that cheap perfume
can always tell when you’re in the room
[chorus][x2]
[outro]
alright
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