No More Flan for Fatty

Number 38 bus
Size 38 booty
Go on, look at me and stare
Running down the street for my ride

I knew of love once
In my childhood days
Prepubencent memorys
Before Barry and his tuck shop

Panting and groaning
I waddle on board the bus
my layers of ankles
dripping with sweat and milk

Loves young dream, we passed notes in class
there wasn't a pubic convenience that could contain our passion
The eyes of love do not recognise bronchial disorders
We just be Sippin on gin n grease

As the driver demands the tarriff
I fumble in my leather purse
My large cumbersome fingers
Groping for money otherwise spent on food

I never used to be like this
My 18th birthday I caught him feeding
feeding with another, much larger than I
Making me more determed to be someone bigger, larger, better and chubbier

I clumsely waddle down the isle
My beady eyes scan the mass transit for a place to sit
Before the bus increases its velocity
I need to park this blomondge of an ass pronto

Saw Barry just last week
Boy, that hairy grease bitch still looks good.
Jelously as I observe he's with a new girl
This time shes a skinny

Diet from now on, wash away those bed sores
Cleaning up my act for barrys new tastes
say goodbye to them roaches in my crotch
There aint no more flan for fatty

hoe hoe hoe
green giant