Soul Boys

Out they go wearing baggy slacks, Shiny shoes, fashion mags. The way they talk makes me sick. They're nothing but a bunch of pricks. Soul boys wear Hawaiian shirts, On the lookout for teenage flirts. Did you get it? Did you score? Did you fuck the little whore? I don't care, I'm not a freak. I don't give a fucking shit about you, About you, about you. Soul Boys are a bunch of cunts. They're just a load of fucking runts. They can't fight, they can't scrap. All they do is rap, rap, rap, rap, Soul boys wear Hawaiian shirts, On the lookout for teenage flirts. Did you get it? Did you score? Did you fuck the little whore? I don't care, I'm not a freak. I don't give a fucking shit about you, About you, About You. With pointy shoes and purple hair, Go to a disco, stand and stare. When you get there, you stand and pose. What you need is a punch on the nose, On the nose, on the nose, on the nose. A punch on the nose, on the nose, On the nose. It's a punch on the nose