Captain’s Log. Day 103. 0400 AST. Hull compromised. Damage to vape lounge: irreparable. George: missing, presumed dead. And we’re down to our last bottle of Ciroc Ultra. They said I was nuts. They said there’s nothing down here. They said even if it was real, I’d never find it. But they were wrong. They were all wrong. Except about me being nuts, that part was right on the money.

Hi I’ve been feeling blessed I’ve been feeling breasts When I heard my mixtapes I was real impressed High caloric intake Cuz of all the sex Do you have a mint, babe? I got titty breath Ooh Scoochie Boochie on the premises All my rap songs have strong premises As evidenced by everything I ever did I put a lotta effort in to make it look this effortless Scoochie Boochie in your residence Having excellent sex again for the heck of it And if you need the frame of reference: Meet the smiling face your lady pressed her breast against Set a sex record and a precedent The former for performance and The latter friends with benefits And the plan includes dental: Head, that is I said "Thanks!" and She told me don’t mention it Then she did Something so generous Made me make a mess again Dirty like sediment Booty like Everest: Treacherous Many men have tried and failed to scale it But I bested it Yes I did She looks like Eve in Genesis: perfect Flawless and topless enticed by my serpent And by that I mean my curved dick Looking like a scimitar Is it hard? Sure is I’m awfully witty Make babes say Good gosh he’s pretty If I’m late to the stage With the bawdy ditties Probably got waylaid by All these titties Here’s the Scoochie Boochie policy: If it’s a ballsy move Do it balls-ily Gotta duck n' move They’re chucking bras at me Did I fuck your boo? Possibly Honestly I tend to lose track In a non-stop montage of boob fat Smoke grass poke hot nude ass Botany and sodomy my top two stats I came to put a smile on your face and a lake in your gosh dang loins So if you’re feeling one or both feel free to make some gosh dang noise

Captain’s Log. Day 1. 0900 hours Aquatic Standard time. Fair seas as we left port today. And after a brief delay to repair the damage from the 400 bottles of Ciroc that I smashed over the bow, we were off. And to think, just a few months ago I was just having a regular day on my volcano: vigorously copulating with an Italian sorbet heiress I met by running down the beach with a road flare held aloft. As I recall, it was sometime between our eleventh and twelfth consecutive bout of torrential lovemaking, she whispered to me an old family legend: a tale of an ancient island city, where the kush grew taller than the treetops, where every whip was foreign, and every man, woman, and child had an iced out Roley. But one day, their women became too thicc, and the island sank into the sea. But some say they still live down there at the bottom. When I heard this I helicoptered straight to Ferrari headquarters, and there we sketched out the blueprints for what would become the world’s finest custom luxury submersible, while Camila and I had our 12th episode of great sex on the desk. And today, as I look upon this magnificent vessel, my heart isn’t the only thing that swells with pride. This is Captain Scoochie Boochie of the S.S. Manatee, and I will find the Lost City of Atlantits.

I bought a submarine I’m living undersea comfortably I filled this bitch up with luxuries The only thing lacking is subtlety Welcome to the good ship Manatee The epitome of opulence and vanity I commissioned me an image of my visage on the stern And it turned out handsomely The ship’s shaped like a microphone My mixtape’s shipshape And amidships find me writing in the studio Cuz my flow is the ship’s fuel intake Pull out the harbor Hard to starboard Hard to starve When I got all of this food in my larder I got a fancy pantry I got the tartar sauce If I want can eat candy I got the starburst Fresh baked bread made daily Cop an artisan loaf Find me getting baked in the bakery Whole wheat weed, please pardon the smoke In the parlor with the marvellous dro From the weed greenhouse Where the harvest is dope And the smoke leaks out From the lounge to the steam house Marijuana sauna that is part of my home You guys like air hockey? Bet your dad’s ass that we got a table NBA League Pass free cable HBO and a pony in a stable That’s a sea horse And I’m well aware I got nowhere to ride it But I like it so I keep George That’s his name Masticating on potatoes While I’m brushing his mane That’s a favorite second place would Be my custom bidet Calibrated to my anus For a comfortable spray Butt the water is replaced with My favorite drank I’ve got a couple complaints From guests that don’t expect Ciroc to the taint Well expect that If you can’t hang get the F back I don’t mean fullback Rather tight end Don’t get mad when splashed The enema of my enemy is my friend The amenities don’t end Hot towel? Definitely, yes Ahhh, bitch I’m refreshed You can take a leisurely stroll to the mezzanine bistro Thank Garcon for the sweet roll Best wheat toast on the East Coast And that’s separate from the bakery I keep both If you need dough Go the vault Where we keep gold (muffled) Sorry. I shouldn’t rap with my cheeks full But Garcon came through with the cheese scone Here’s the captain’s cabin Where the magic happens A lotta sex On classy fabric On a water bed But it’s lava fed and that’s a magma mattress And after that it’s just a couple steps From the phallus palace of love and sex To the ballast hub of bubble chests Cuz the sub is balanced by supple breasts Booby buoy Scoochie boochie (various and sundry scooches and booches)

I’m the LeBron of Libido The spitting image of invincible machismo The only thing bigger than my wiener is my ego Gosh damn so handsome Gaston meets Barry Bonds meets Samson Very strong man getting damsels to dampen They’re fine with a wait in a line for a chance to Sit on me and tell me what they want like Santa. I got a real long naughty list Long dong I bestow upon the populace Often causing sogginess in flawless chicks Got the kind of confidence I’m not sure if the condom fits You just won the beefcake sweepstakes Hefty cuz I eat steak each day Catch me wearing boots on beach day I’m the type of dude that understands rebates Like the ten-point stag that I headshotted: Humongous and very horny I bought land and had sex on it: Comes with the territory Can a young stud stunt? I can’t walk, I just strut Smile on my face Cuz I just touched butt And I lay the wood like a bunt But my bunts tend to end up home runs Cuz I got guns My arms or firearms Either one I’ma bust a cap then a move then a nut I’m a fuckin dad when I move there’s a grunt (dad grunt) That’s the sound that I make when I’m taking a dump With the strength of a thousand suns I got a thousand sons That know how to hunt Only time I cry’s when I’m proud of em (that’s my boy) I can fix a truck while black out drunk Me and my spark plug are fucked up Feel a little Weiser every time I crack a Bud Favorite appetizer is a slider on a bun I like to imagine A slider is a normal burger And my hands are massive Can’t recall the last time I was flaccid I get genuinely mad when I play Madden And if we go to some tourist attraction I’m doing most of the pointing See that kids? Some of our presidents on the mountain. “Yeah, dad it looks just like the pictures.” I don’t love the attitude, Tucker, I’ll be honest.

Captain’s Log, 1620 Volcanic Time. We’re stuck for the moment, as my shortcut through the kelp forest proved wack. Turns out the spinners on the submarine’s 24-foot gold rims are a little prone to cloggage. Fortunately, my steadfast steed George the Pony has a voracious appetite for sea weed. So, while he chomps us free, I’m enjoying a little sea weed of my own, fresh from the submarine’s greenhouse. Tonight’s special: a little hydrophilic royal Egyptian macro-purp courtesy of my guy Doug. (smokes) (Beep, whoosh) Whoops. I think I just launched a torpedo. (chuckles) I am way too high to be operating a multi-billion dollar submersible. Oh? And now we set off the smoke alarm. Don’t worry though. On my ship, the smoke alarm just dims the lights, drops a beat, and turns on the lava lamps. And yes, that’s real lava.

Y’all listen up I got the fattest kush in all christendom Homegrown in the sub I hit the blunt once made my nipples numb Good good. Great. I just took a eighth to the face I just took an ounce to the trousers Bowser: blowing out flames Pound cake: baked I just turned a pound into haze I just put the loud in the clouds like a plane Feeling like a trail: blazed I blow steam like my mouth’s a flume Grow green like an algal bloom Those leaves make a crown for Scooch Like a wreathed legionnaire with a thousand troops Looks like a salad on my head Hail Caesar Raspberry vinaigrette Great berrier reefer I puff vapors into fog Via papers or a bong Either way the same result I get faded and or zonked Pause Blunt looks a caber that you toss Every layer that I don Is a blazer by default I might smoke a little bullshit High level druid doing something with a poultice This strain can behave like a glow stick But it only blooms on moon solstice Got that purple like an onion Make your eyes go red like an onion Wait, this one’s just an onion Fuck it, I will still puff it Is that a torpedo? Nope. It’s the next pre-roll I took a little hit and both my nipples broke This the shit that Ms. Frizzle smokes Got it by the ounce like fresh juice Got it by the pound like a rescue Got a lotta loud like a jet flew over- Grown like a wildlife refuge Got a lotta trees like an Entmoot Got it from a plug of repute Gotta love Doug, he’s the best, dude Why don’t you take a look at our menu It’s like a wine list Peruse it and choose it The booch will provide it I get the finest of spices from Cyprus I roll a spliff in papyrus High-roglyphic, get it? Dank from the banks of the Nile like an ibis Or maybe Euphrates or Tigris My pipe is Poseidon’s trident That’s why I’m known as your highness Smoke off the dome like my volcanic island Droop of my eyelids the size of my iris Imply the extent of my highness High on the seas like a pirate I’m interbreeding my weed with a ficus The leaf on the tree’s a relief of my likeness Dang. Shout out to science Dank is my crutch like the blanket to Linus I’m rank as fuck it’s a punch in the sinus Can’t hear the crowd or the sound of a siren My loud is so loud that it gave me tinnitus I got the gas like a Pilot, the light like a pilot, I’m high like a pilot I’m scanning for nipple sensation... Radio silence

Captain’s Log. Dawn. Central Time. We awoke to alarms blaring. It’s the thiccometer. It picked up a thicc signal about two clicks out. These thiccidity readings are off the charts. Never in all the annals of seamenship has thiccissitude of this magnitude been recorded. Could this be the lost city of Atlantits? Wait. Do you hear that? (sirens singing: “let’s get it on”) My gosh. The siren song of deepwater groupies. I know I should block my ears. But it’s no use. I’m just too irresistible.

I’m on my way to get laid She told me come over Ok Go go gadget boner And I’m going overboard And I’m speeding away I told my pony homie George Show the meaning of haste Hyah! Bitch I gallop over land and sea and she Sent a summons to demand that peen Posthaste Oh great! I said damn, that’s neat Threw a poon alley-oop I’ma slam that thing I’m en route to a lewd rendezvous With a cute hottie who Wanna do naughty moves Nude with the booch Gotta scoot She said entrez vous Yonder boobs I’m in thot pursuit Hear the clop of the hooves Like I’m riding into battle But I’m tryna have vagina Ride my stubble like a saddle Forth Eorlingas She just tryna straddle Looking for cunnilingus She just tryna have the one ring on her finger But I skeet skeet skeedaddle I don’t linger Speeding and shit Cuz the beacon is lit Gondor calls for aid Rohan’s on the way But it’s me with the dick And some trees in a zip Got that Longbottom O.G. Leaf in a spliff I got distracted by the Lord of the Rings Cuz I’ve been at the Gaffer’s old lean Swerving through the Atlantic Thirty minute transit Girl we can get flirty and then dirty And then tantric And when I hit it have her callin out in Sanskrit And she don’t even know the language Getting intimate is imminent She solicited my rigid dick She subpoenaed my penis to visit tit And I’m ready with it like the minute men One if by land Two if bisexual She would like a man and an extra girl Double dash with another lass? I’m amenable Just send me the schedule I know that you’re flexible Put a breast in my text And some pep in my step When she sent the address Put that chest In the vicinity of my chin Let the festivititties begin

I’m a legendary lovemaker Deft touch with the butt Like the brush to a Dutch painter I got dumb dangler And I’m bout to put a Pollack on your dumptaker Foreplay is my forte When I make love It’s gourmet I may nut on your face But it ain’t nuttin but sorbet Poor taste? Sure thing But a great line I’m the word bank Plus world bank Plus sperm bank Plus a great time Welcome to the captain’s quarters Back that ass up Captain’s orders My mattress magma That’s a scorcher Some snacks for stamina Have some hors d'oeuvres Cleanse a pallet with me My dick’s jurisdiction Is your municipalititties Qualititty over quantititty Though I get both A lotta women getting soggy with me It’s humidititty That is fogging up the windows Sex with me Is like curly fries Go extra deep In them curvy thighs Got the recipe For your ecstasy Cuz my sexpertise Is certified I got a dirty mind And a clean dick Thirty five Inch penis She’s sure I’m lying Til she seen it And your girl was like I need this But it’s an inconvenience No jeans fit The seams split My peen is As long as A week with No weekend Gee whiz Jiminy clitoris She is Visibly interested I put the “pro” in promiscuous I put the “pro” in profane I’m with your girl doing flips n shit Cuz I get cirque du so laid She was not born in the states She put the “ass” in ambassador I put the “cock” in caucasian I’m in that thing like a catheter You ain’t seen dong of this caliber Long as Excalibur Mate for so long that my phallus hurt And they moving on in the calendar Started in May Next thing I know it’s October Well, you know what they say Time flies when you’ve got a boner And I got a boner And she’s very good with the python Must be a coder Throw her on the lava bed feel the repercussions Poonani tsunami She is buxom And it seems to me that she is Russian Why? Cuz she seized the means of reproduction

I had sex Now I’m sleepy I beat it up, now I’m beat Shout out my PP She called me dreamy I said that’s what I’m about to be Get off my weenie My pillow’s a butt What? Just peachy Pleased as punch that we just fucked Slumber on my mind And a lover on my butt, and in front Everybody hustled, had a good time, got a nut I’m a motherfuckin snugglemuffin Fresh up out of the oven As I drift off to sleep, I dream of the Lost City of Atlantits, where the streets are paved with gold records, and every night is ladies’ nite. I can feel her breathe as I lean on her torso Bout to catch Z’s like trees near Zorro (slash slash slash) I don’t have a sword though But I got the pork like the lead in a porno Only moreso I don’t even need it any more so My weiner recedes as I sleep I’ll snore old songs I released but I’ll sing in morse code I like to picture it broken into regions like Bionicles. There’s the green part where they grow the weed, the ice region where the jewelry comes from. And the pizza plains, where the crust is a big point of emphasis. I put the penis in sleepiness She put that tookus on me All of my semen are geniuses But I’m just shooting the breeze Big time sigh of relief as I slide in the sheets And I smell like nuts But it’s fine by me That’s a well-earned musk I fucked, I reek It’s time I dream You know those little battery powered cars for kids? In Atlantits, those are Ferraris. Matte black. Top speed 170. Little kid valets. These are sirens I’m a seaman and they eat those I know I’ll die but my eyes wanna be closed But right before I slide into a deep doze Garcon stops by with the cheese scone (chewing) Oh my gosh. Mm. So flaky. Really good. Aw rats that backfired Now I’m full too Twice as tired From my tum to my plums I am plum tuckered out Cuz I fucked and I’m stuffed so I’m done and I’m out

Captain’s Log. 1100 hours, Danish Standard Time. The lovemaking lasted from late spring to mid-fall, followed by a lovely post-fuck brunch with these abyssal succubi. Normally they devour their seductees, but they decided it would be a shame to deprive the world of my sexual gifts. They didn’t know where to find Atlantits, but they had heard of a strange glow emanating from the Dr. Anthony Purplepoop Memorial Crevice. And I must say, this mighty hole honors the good doctor’s memory splendidly. I’d climb up for a better view, but it’s a little difficult to move in this solid gold Versace sea suit. Visibility: low to moderate. Primary obstacle being the clouds from my harmonica-style mounted vape. (takes a rip, coughs) Wait, what is that? George, come in. (staticky whinny). No. It’s not Atlantits. It’s just an old shipwreck laden with precious treasure. Yet another in a string of luxurious disappointments. Well, there’s no sense looking a gift horse in the mouth. George, bring her around and drop the big magnet. And while you’re at it, drop that beat.

Grandfather clock on my wrist I just found a buttload of booty Loot from my tooth to my two feet Gold from my nose to my tushy I look like Midas spooned me Look at the size of this jewelry Lavished in rubies and lapis lazuli Platinum drooping so loosely it bruise me That’s why my back is kablooey Ice is so giant that I get arthritis from trying to lift it I need assistance You can spot me from a distance Glistening I’m putting spots in your vision I got the flash of a streaker Indecent exposure I got the flash of a photo In decent exposure Glow like I strolled through Chernobyl Recent exposure Ladies, please Keep your composure Diamonds so shiny they blind me Look like a beacon Easy to spy me Cooking and eating Jewels that I’m finding Rubies are leaking Out of my hiney I know my diet is why I am dying Nothing can stymie me I just keep styling Meanwhile my stomach is Trying to fight me I’m a jester Dressed kingly Got a sceptre Checkers King me Whoo! Treasure chest Blingy Pinky ring could sink a Dinghy Weighty Gaudy Move like I’m eighty With aches in my body Pain like they shot me Iceberg burdening my neck Colder than a break-up done by text Hotter than a plate made by my chef Cuz he makes a grade A Faberge egg Garcon in this bitch And he poached it Sorta like the ivory I’ve reclaimed From this old ship I feel nightly pain Think I may have scoliosis Probably cuz my chain hang Longer than a rope bridge Oh you think you’re so rich? Call me when your collar Gives you osteoporosis Diamonds looking Hope-ish Clearer than the coast is Everybody staring like I broke wind Opulent Italian stuff around me Like the Pope’s dick Flossin on the brink of exhaustion I can’t sleep a wink Cuz the clink of my bling is a constant I toss and I turn but it hurts Cuz my shirt is embossed with A hawk made of onyx (hawk sound) Links up in my chain like a sausage Stud upon my tongue like a lozenge Plug up in my butt just to stop shit It’s not even a sex thing I’m just flexing Pearl in my butt That’s a shellfish medley Health is wealth but My health is ending Constipated king Girl I’m going out like Elvis Presley

Captain’s Log. 0200. Miller Time. It’s a grim scene down here at the bottom. The seafloor, gouged by fishing nets, plastics both micro and macro, countless broken bottles of Ciroc Ultra: the Premier Vodka with a bold finish. And then, I found it. The Lost City of Atlantits…covered in poop and garbage. They must have survived down here for a while, but eventually succumbed to the pollution. It appears in our pursuit of paradise, we destroyed the one we already had. (heavy pause) George has been super bitchy all day. I beat him like six times in a row at air hockey and he like stormed out. And then during spa hour, he walks in without even taking off his horseshoes, and I was like “um, is that how we do this now?” and he “pflthbth”ed at me. This isn’t like us, we never fight. Y’know it’s just, he’s stressed. And I get that. You know he’s a pony 6 clicks beneath the sea. He doesn’t belong down here. He belongs, you know, running free, with the sun on his mane and the wind in his...mane. (whinnying) George! I didn’t see you there. (whinnying). I know. Look, man, I’ve been wack. I shouldn’t have made you come down here, we don’t belong down here at all. We should be up there under the blue sky with good people and bad bitches. What do you say, boy, should we head for greener pastures? (whinnying) Yeah? Let’s go home (whinnying) (ominous rumble) What was that? George, check the-- (crash, bubbles)

Ok this one’s preachy but if you make it to the end there’s a nice little verse about butts Rock bottom Hot water Only getting hotter We don’t treat it like a problem But it is Try to live in ignorant bliss While we piss away the planet That we’ll give to our kids Chose greed over love So the heat’s going up Think the sea gives a fuck Bout your first quarter growth? Nope. It does not But we frack fuel up then burn it off to get Cash in our purse and a perfect lawn While the methane drains out the permafrost Looked up one day and the earth was hot Now it hurts to talk About the birds we lost Turning trees to logs And turning logs to boxes With pizza for people To eat with sauce And get peeved cuz the Eagles lost Each year hotter than the previous Seasons twisted like plastic on beaches Preaching bliss everlasting with Jesus Meanwhile we’re ravaging Eden Our greed is egregious The heat is increasing Yet millions of people Believe that it’s fake Because they’ve been deceived By some billionaires making A killing off killing the earth And then leaving Oh what a feeling Being a species That’s shooting itself in the feet And denying it’s bleeding We breed the cows, their farts heat the clouds We’re basically dying from eating We live in a flatulent time Disaster is looming I’m rapping It feels pretty stupid To talk about tragic in rhyme But what can you do? I mean I use reusable bags But every product I purchase is packaged in plastic Our habits have ravaged the planet we’ve Earned the inferno we’re sure to inhabit Climate deniers are bat shit But it’s just as bad if you knew what was happening And didn’t do jack shit I’m just another distraction While the seas are rising And the bees are dying Yet I keep on rhyming About weed and hinies While we keep our silence We bleach the reefs The ecology dies in The economies’ teeth I’m the chief among hedonists But now I see the feebleness Of a life spent seeking Weed and tits It’s empty Like this deep abyss So put your hands in the air like CO2 Make some gosh damn noise if you’re scared to lose The only place in space that has air and food Gotta change our ways and I’m prepared to do it How I speak, how I vote How I eat, how I roll Solar heat, not from coal Shit is bleak, but there’s hope And I know I’m just a drop in a sea of greed But if we don’t go green then we’ll go extinct She got that gluteus maximus And the booty is fLabulous And it truly is massive So when she’s moving it’s hazardous She got room for a passenger Hear that (truck backup sound) when she back it up Had the food of five thousand And now the booty miraculous And it’s super distracting cuz I’m just trying to keep rapping but My peripheral vision picks up Voluminous ass and butts That’s enough Let’s wrap this classic up

...They were all wrong. Except about me being nuts, that part was right on the money. Dang that would have made a sick intro. Now I don’t suppose anyone will ever hear this. The torpedo that I fired when I was high circumnavigated the earth and punched a hole in the hull the size of the Dr. Anthony Purplepoop Memorial Crevice. I’m sealed off in the marijuana sauna. In retrospect, setting the smoke detectors to dim the lights was a poor choice. From what I can make out by blunt-light, my stocks of starburst and tartar sauce are nearly depleted. The good news is there’s a little bit of ciroc left, the bad news: it’s in my custom bidet. My only hope now is to don my solid gold versace sea suit, and issue a sexy distress signal into the front of the ship. If anyone’s listening, this is Captain Scoochie Boochie of the SS Manatee, and I found the Lost City of Atlantits.

I’m alone And I have been Just battle rapping my sadness It’s a worthy opponent I know that My goal has Been bogus and batshit I got the booty both treasure and butts It’s never enough The promise of pleasure is lesser than love Fresher than fuck And my threads are deluxe But for what? I got all these things but it stinks When your dreams come to be But you find that they weren’t worth the time Because all the songs that you heard And the words that you rhymed Bout the girls and the good life lied So why rap? I’m gonna die and you’re gonna die But in the meantime Can I make you laugh? I think that that’s worth a try (whinnying) George?!? (whinnying) What do you mean the verse I just did melted the seafloor and now there’s gonna be a volcanic eruption HOLY CRAP. SHIT! George! Quick, get on my back! I can ride the lava to the surface. We made it! Scoochie Booch! Fuck the sea! This album is not affiliated with Ciroc or anything I just made it. Please don’t sue me. Scoochie Booch

And if you still weren’t sure I’m the shit Let me be the first to admit I could punt your girl off a bridge And she’d return for a pic And she lurched for a kiss But I hurdled your chick (miss!) Like I was returning a kick I think I’d prefer not to get All the vermin that live In the fur on her lip Lately I’ve been murdering it Even as a sperm I was lit My first words were a bit And it hit It occurred post-birth Had the nurses in fits So I slipped, hit the dirt With a perfect split Bounced up with some verses to spit Bout the girls that I’ll get And the girth of my dick Clearly I’d rehearsed it a bit In my stint in the womb I was working to get Each person that heard what I did To be pursing their lips Like a whiff of a turd in the wind Make em make the stank face Make em wanna make sweet love I don’t even chase fame I just came to shake these butts And I do it Got your head bobbing like some fluid got into it Shaking pool water out your noggin is a nuisance Shaking your bottom while I’m talking that’s prudent Weapons free Let that booty swing I don’t wanna hear you clap Unless you do it with your cheeks That’s why it’s called a “round” of applause And that’s music to my peen I got the body type of a geek But I bellow like a bison in heat Make vaginas cry when I speak Your daily dose of vitamin sheesh Pretty witty with the pen Take a titty to the chin Pretty women wanna spend the night Chilling on my dick It’s a given in a given city I get given kitty on a whim And when I’m lonely, I get tit pictures remotely I kissed your bitch on the lips at a Shoney’s And it was not great When I do what I do They’re like “How’d he do that?” And when they see their father They’re like “howdy-do, dad!” Who is my honey? that’s none of your beeswax My dick is addictive and she had a relapse I undress then tap that like she shat some tree sap Man buttsex with that ass’s like being attacked by a beanbag You’re upset and mad at me relax don’t be sad Here’s hundreds for tissues that’s nothing to sneeze at You suggest I rap bad I queef at your feedback I’ll nutmeg then sacktap then teabag your weak ass And on the ride home when you break the silence Like “Yo, what the fuck was that white kid?” Don’t be surprised if Your wife goes I don’t know But I liked it Scoochie Boochie Bye