Don’t Bust My Chops lyrics

[Verse 1]
I'm sick and tired of you calling me names
I'm sick and tired of your childish games
I'm sick and tired of your bullsh*t brats
Cocaine stupor and anxiety attacks
Picked up the magazine, I see your face
You're nothing boy, a goddamn waste
With the lamest fashions on your back
You're never happy, a hypochondriac

[Chorus]
Don't bust my chops, baby, don't bust my chops
Yeah!

[Verse 2]
You're a styling queen and an alley cat
Too many chocolates keep a fat man fat
You're a pain in the ass, and your on the (loose)
All I get from you is your bad attitude
Dirty mouth, it's all I can bear
Get out of here b*tch, because you're nowhere
Always wearing that cheap perfume
Can always tell when you're in the room

[Chorus]
Don't bust my chops, baby, don't bust my chops
Yeah!
Don't bust my chops, baby, don't bust my chops
Yeah!
[Outro]
Alright