Filthy McNasty

He hangs out in bars. He's got a few scars. He's higher than Mars And makes love in cars. His wig isn't neat. At cards he's a cheat. He drinks Mickey Pete And don't eat no meat. But all the time you hear the women always calling his name. Filthy McNasty He don't own a suit A Naru or Zoot. He never has loot Except in his boot. His body is lean. His feet aren't clean. His mouth is real mean When he's on the scene. But all the time you hear the women really yelling his name. Filthy McNasty Why all the crazy chics love McNasty I could never never understand. But he's the center of every party. He never gives another guy a chance. Before you know it he done got your chick And took her clean away from you, Boy. I don't call him hip. He's sort of a flip. One leg is a crip. His mind's on a trip. He don't have a pad. He didn't know his Dad. His temper is bad So don't get him mad. And all the time you hear the women Really hollering his name. Filthy McNasty. He once got his kicks By putting on hicks And square kind of chicks. Ri his licks. Tho' those days are gone And carrys right on With his line of con. He's still a Don Wan. And all the time you hear the women Really screaming his name. Filthy McNasty. He's gained lots of fame. McNasty his name.