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P.C. Lyrics

you know, what p***** me off more than anything is all these people who
aren't exactly politically correct. like the other day, i was out walking
my siberian-american huskies. and you know how canines are: they like to
sniff everything, including each other's b***s. so some guy walks up and
he says, "get your dog's a** out of that other dog's nose!"
so, i replied, "how dare you call them dogs! they're siberian-american
huskies. that's like calling an african-american a black. or calling a
mexican-american a mexican. or calling a h***s**ual a stupid f*****!" it
p***** me off so much i got a nose ring, died my hair blue and moved to
san francisco!

my bus is broken down
my spirit's broken too
my girl's by my side
so i don't feel so blue
thirty miles more
to make it to the city
where junk is king
and the air smells s*****
what a friendly town
it really suits us well
it took some getting used to
that f****** hippy smell
everyone corrects me
every time i speak
i'm sick and f****** tired
of feeling like a stupid l.a. geek
i like it
i like it
i like it
i like it, yes i do

i say it's not an issue
it doesn't shed much light
on a global scale
it isn't worth the fight
the tongue that girl speaks
is forked to you and me
that b**** has got a problem
i think it's called p.c.
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