"And when Twerka lowered from the heavens,
The big-booty Old Queen descended with her.
The two goddesses ruled time and space
And the entire universe.
One day, as the prophets were ugly
And the grass was dry,
Twerka sang a song to replenish the people's grass and faces.
"This one is for the boys with the booming system
Top down, AC with the cooler system
When he come up in the club, he be blazin' up
Got stacks on deck like he savin' up
And he ill, he real, he might gotta deal
He pop bottles and he got the right kind of build
He cold, he dope, he might sell coke
He always in the air, but he never fly coach
He a muthafuckin trip, trip, sailor of the ship, ship
When he make it drip, drip, kiss him on the lip, lip
That's the kinda dude I was lookin' for
And yes, you'll get slapped if you're lookin', ho
I said, excuse me you're a hell of a guy
I mean my, my, my, my you're like pelican fly
I mean, you're so shy and I'm loving your tie
You're like slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye, oh"
It worked, and the people lived happy for the rest of their ugly lives."
