I don't believe this, I get rid of those two evil maniacs who try to ruin my show, and I get two evil guests who are trying to ruin my show.
Fair, guest who came up with this stupid idea of getting space ghosts to talk show in the first place.
How they gave us on show the tad gold stools, and they give them second heat gold mad postal.
Stay waitin' in that power band space cannon, and have the nerve to jump in the face.
Erase banning, popped out, luckily he deaded it.
Guess who's the smuggler who's credited with editing it?
Your man Moe's hard to cop out, and have no other career choice, he dropped out.
Since when the way out secluded Zorak, way back used to rub his thorax and borax.
I'm not the one that sold him to it, if he won't admit it, I'm not gonna hold him to it.
It's all love and no hate though, all that is only here to get his own lane show, through a monologue and jest with the guests.
Mad Lib switch the beat and walk him to the desk, with danger holding down the control room.
Later get him returning from commercial, I told you so.
Er, he's on B.P.T., catch him on public access, free TV.
And we're back live when they hear the crack, so crack, how your man got a show that's so wack.
Have you ever thought to work with Er or heckin' gotten him?
Got enough oxygen from his toxic flim, another sec, his neck with a got flames.
Mouse switches his pants and some hot dames, tonight's audience receives rich green video games.
15 seconds of pain, beautiful lanes.
It's just a shame, he's on it.
Repeating for the same prime time slot as Conan.
No dummy at Chigawa.
Announcement, sweet rush to any stunner who lets me shower in the shower for an hour.
The kid's supposed to be asleep.
Balls to join the sound and roll with a beep beep.
Later this week, Big Ben clang on.
After him, there's no one else who could afford to bring on.
Keep a ghetto and let him know who I owe you through the gate door.
I like to propose a toast to the grossest host, space host, host to host.
That destructo is a paid out gag in a cape and a pants suit, looking like a straight out dad.
Don't be in the sound crunchy, get a honey from the back and crumpled up a scrunchie.
A light snack, hungry munchie.
Felt a funny hunch that she told a donkey punch me.
Father Guido Sarducci, father emcee.
Charo, Gucci creature with a new bestseller.
Who do you call a hoochie?
A proud spouse with the most.
When it's on, it's on. Space host, host to host.
You think I'm just gonna hand over my show to you, Tom?
Have you lost your f***ing mind?
Listen, I'm not gonna hand my show over.
You know why? Because it's my show.
I'm not gonna hand my show over.
