Holy Moly

by Papa Molly

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about

Your daily dose of GMOs
Exotically midwestern
Hypocritical
Migraine inducing, but in a way which is fun for the whole family
A box of candy Runts (but only the bananas)
Created to deeply upset the ghost of Weird Al Yankovic
Well-vaccinated
“Useful.” - the CIA
Yummy and rubbery, just like my crocs

credits

released February 28, 2019

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Papa Molly San Francisco, California

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Track Name: Bitch Goggles
Saw you over there with my bitch goggles
Stay away stay away
Gonna jack you up with my ring knife
Bitch better better pay
Saw you over there with my bitch goggles
Stay away stay away
Gonna jack you up with my ring knife
Bitch better better better better pay

Street man bye
Street man bye
Street man bye
Street man bye, bye
Bitch goggles, bitch goggles
Bitch goggles
Bitch goggles, bitch goggles, bitch goggles
Stay away hoe

Saw you over there with my bitch goggles
Stay away stay away
Whoops
Gonna jack you up with my ring knife
Bitch better better pay
Saw you over there with my bitch goggles
Stay away stay away
Get up off my sidewalk, hoe
Gonna jack you up with my ring knife
Bitch better better better better pay
Your ass gotta go
Bitch better better better better better better better better pay

Street man bye
Street man bye
Street man bye
Street man bye, bye
Bitch goggles, bitch goggles
Bitch goggles
Bitch goggles, bitch goggles, bitch goggles
Stay away hoe
Track Name: Spaghetti Sandwich
I wanna make a spaghetti sandwich
You take the spaghetti, and put it in the bread
Hey everybody! You wanna make spaghetti
Well let's do that, then put it in some bread
I wanna make a spaghetti sandwich
You take the spaghetti, and put it in the bread
Hey everybody! You want some spaghetti
Let's serve it up and put it in some bread
I wanna make a spaghetti sandwich
You take the spaghetti, and put it in the bread
Hey everybody! You wanna make spaghetti
Well let's do that, then put it in some bread
I wanna make a spaghetti sandwich
You take the spaghetti, and put it in the bread
Hey everybody! You want some spaghetti
Let's serve it up and put it in some bread

I wanna make a fuckboi cry
You take his face, then slap it five times
Hey everybody! You wanna see one cry
It's not that hard, just slap it five times
I wanna make a fuckboi cry
You take his face, then slap it five times
Hey everybody! You wanna see one cry
It's not that hard, just slap it five times
Track Name: Don Wanna Hear Ya Noise
Don't wanna hear your beats
Stop playing me string quartets
Don't wanna hear your jazz
Or I'll smash your clarinet
Stop playing me grooves
Don't care about your grooves
Don't care about your new EP
Stop doing your improv
Get your hands off them piano keys

'Cuz I don't wanna hear, don't wanna hear
No I don't wanna hear, don't wanna hear
No I don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna
Don't don't don't don't don't don't don't don't wanna hear your fuckin noise

No, don't wanna hear your fuckin noise
Don't wanna hear your noise
No, don't wanna hear your fuckin noise
Don't wanna hear your noise

Don't play me your noise band
Not gonna listen to your bad pop tune
Oh, really, you're a rapper?
It's not like theres 20 more in this room

'Cuz I don't wanna hear, don't wanna hear
No I don't wanna hear, don't wanna hear
No I don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna
Don't don't don't don't don't don't don't don't wanna hear your fuckin noise

No, don't wanna hear your fuckin noise
Don't wanna hear your noise
No, don't wanna hear your fuckin noise
Don't wanna hear your noise

(La musique souvent me prend comme une mer!
Vers ma pâle étoile,
Sous un plafond de brume ou dans un vaste éther,
Je mets à la voile;
La poitrine en avant et les poumons gonflés
Comme de la toile
J'escalade le dos des flots amoncelés
Que la nuit me voile;
Je sens vibrer en moi toutes les passions
D'un vaisseau qui souffre;
Le bon vent, la tempête et ses convulsions)

Shut the fuck up
'Cuz I don't wanna hear, don't wanna hear
No I don't wanna hear, don't wanna hear
No I don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna
Don't don't don't don't don't don't don't don't want to hear your fuckin noise

No, don't wanna hear your fuckin noise
Don't wanna hear your noise
No, don't wanna hear your fuckin noise
Don't wanna hear your noise

'Cuz I don't wanna hear, don't wanna hear
No I don't wanna hear, don't wanna hear
No I don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna
Don't don't don't don't don't don't don't don't want to hear your fuckin noise
I don't wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna I don't wanna
I don't wanna wanna hear your noise, hear your noise, hear your noise
Don't wanna don't wanna don't wanna don't wanna
Wanna wanna wanna wanna
Want to hear your fuckin noise
Track Name: A Tale of Two Shoelaces
Good afternoon children, and welcome back to Granddaddy Molly and his funky grandsons' bouncy castle, steakhouse, slash storytelling nook saloon
Today, we got a special guest with us. As a proud subsidiary of Papa Molly incorporated, we got the CEO herself to come swing on by and tell you a tale

Steppin' on the block, bouta take off on a stroll
Working, living, breathing really takes its toll
Was waiting at the red hand when I looked down and spotted
That my lil shoelaces had got themselves unknotted
No time; got the signal for the walking man
Ten million things on my brain already tryna understand
Took off on the street, laces trailing behind
Passin' cars barely waiting, sittin' growlin' in their lines
Then there was a dude; man course it was a dude
He said, "Girl might wanna take a look down at your shoes"
Muthafucka yes, bitch, I know
It my own size 9 fuckin foot you hoe
You think I'm a lil lady with her head up in the clouds
No these streets are cold, our eyes look down
Down at the shit and the needles on the street
Bitch I suggest you keep your eyes to yourself before you catch Hep C
Yes, please, step your pussy off of me
Congratulations on checking off your morning good deed
You saved my life, I could've tripped and fell
Satan grabs me by the aglets and drags me down to hell
Laces caught around a gutter, flattened by a falling rock
Mama's wishing at my funeral I'd just worn crocs
Thank God for our everyday heroes
Man at 8 am drinking Coke fuckin zero
He's got a heart of gold and eyes like a hawk
And likes stopping random fuckers when they on the crosswalk
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5
But wait, gotta stop her cuz her shoe's untied
Oh miss, ma'am, excuse me, but it looks like your shoe's, your shoe's
Yes bitch I know
What the fuck
I already know
Use my laces to lasso you to Guangzhou
Want me to drop right here and fucking stop traffic
Is strangers tying shoes to you somehow pornographic
Beep beepity-beep! Honk honkity-honk
But y'all, my shoe's untied, I can't possibly walk
Thanks to this kind stranger for letting me know
'Cuz I can't see past my own fuckin collarbone
So I'm lookin up at him fuckin wanna just slaughta
And he's lookin down at me like he's got the stigmata
I hate this goddam muthafukin society
Where doing fake-good deeds is somehow piety
So here's how it ends, despite my desire to attack
And no, y'all ain't gettin these past two minutes back
Cuz this world is basic, this world is fake
Gotta pretend like you're touched by a stranger's hot take
And I know I'm a bitch, and I know it doesn't matter
And the longer that I talk this only gets sadder
But I am this extra, let the whole world know
That there's no tiny little detail I won't stop and roast

But I gotta move on, right? So at the end of the day, I just around and I say, John drumroll please
Oh hey, thanks
Track Name: Too Hetero
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna give piano lessons
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna give piano lessons
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna give piano lessons
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna give piano lessons

Not gonna give
Not gonna give
Not gonna give
Not gonna give

Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna buy no food

No no no no, no no no
No no no, no no no
No no no no, no no no
No, no no no no no no
No no no no, no no no
No no no, no no no
No no no no no no no no
No no no

Too hetero, too fuckin' hetero
Too hetero, too fuckin' hetero
Too hetero, too fuckin' hetero
Too hetero, too fuckin' hetero

Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna give piano lessons
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna give piano lessons
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna give piano lessons
Not gonna buy no food
Not gonna give piano lessons
Not gonna buy no food
No piano lesson
Not gonna buy no food
No piano lesson
Not gonna buy no food
No piano lesson
Not gonna buy no food
No piano lesson
What am I doing tonight? Fuckin your bitch, that's what

No no no no, no no no
No no no, no no no
No no no no, no no no
No, no no no no no no
No no no no, no no no
No no no, no no no
No no no no no no no no
No no no

Too hetero, too fuckin' hetero
Too hetero, too fuckin' hetero
Too hetero, too fuckin' hetero
Too hetero, too fuckin' hetero

No no no no no no no no
No no no no no
Track Name: Bubble Gum
Double bubble, double bubble, double bubble, pop
Juicy fruit, juicy fruit, poppy pop pop
Bazooka, bazooka, pop poppity pop
Trident layers, uh bitch, pay up
Bubble Yum, bubble yum, bubble yum, pop
Extra, extra, read all about it, thots
Double mint, double mint, chewy chewy pop
Eclipse, eclipse, spit that shit out
Bubble gum, bubble gum, bubble gum, yay
Chompy chompy chompy chompy bitches got TMJ
Tie my arms and legs together with Hubba Bubba bubble tape
And ship me over to the baseball game
Smack! Smack! Goes the bubble onto my teeth
Gonna do that shit til' all I got are cavities
Can I cop a piece? Fuck bitch, no please
If you don't got that Bubbaloo then fucking leave

Bubble gum, bubble gum, bubble gum

Candy cane, candy cane, candy cane, lick
Gonna crack open the piggy bank to get the good shit
Pass me the piñata, I'ma take a fat hit
Gonna chomp down on the gummy bears and never ever quit
It's more of an addiction than a little candy crush
Just livin' life on a muthafuckin' sugar rush
Lining up my dollars, snorting that good pixie dust
Whoo! That glucose make me bouta combust

Bubble bubble bubble bubble bubble bubble bubble bubble

(I better brook the loss of brittle life Than those proud titles thou hast won of me; They wound my thoughts worse than sword my flesh: But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool; And time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy, But that the earthy and cold hand of death Lies on my tongue: no, Molly, thou art dust And food for--)
Track Name: Ukelele Wyte Girl
Blonde hair girl
Vineyard Vines
New white Jeep
Vodka soda with limes
Fresh off the boat
From Naperville
Got a sore back
From bingin' One Tree Hill

Got a tattoo of a treble clef
On the back of my neck
I traveled to Hawaii once
And I'll never let you forget

Ukelele white girl
Gonna be big someday
Singer-songwriter girl
Movin' down to LA
Got my dreams
And my Vera Bradley shoulder bag
Got daddy's wallet
And my signature hashtag

Blonde-ass bitch (like Barbie)
iPhone 10 (good evening, bitch)
Super fuckin woke (so woke)
'Cuz she has a faggy friend (she can say that 'cuz they're friends)
She's got a message for you (for me? A message for me?)
One you've never heard before (what is it?)

Got a tattoo of Zebediah (who?)
Chapter 4, verse 10 (it's pronounced, Zebaydiah)
Just to let you know she's Christian (praise)
While she's suckin' c*ck on the weekends

Ukelele white girl
Gonna be big someday
Singer-songwriter girl
Movin' down to LA
Got my dreams
And my Vera Bradley shoulder bag
Got daddy's wallet
And my signature hashtag

Ukelele white girl
Gonna be big someday
Singer-songwriter girl
Movin' down to LA
Got my dreams
And my Vera Bradley shoulder bag
Got daddy's wallet
And my signature hashtag

Ukelele white
Gonna big someday
Singer girl
Movin' down to LA
Got my dreams
And my Vera Bradley shoulder bag
Got daddy's wallet
And my signature hash

Hashtag hashtag hashtag hashtag

Ukelele white
Gonna big someday
Singer girl
Movin' down to LA
Got my dreams
And my Vera Bradley shoulder bag
Got daddy's wallet
And my signature hashtag
Track Name: Dies Irae (Introduction)
Dies irae, dies illa
Solvet saeculum in favilla
teste David cum Sibylla
Quantus tremor est futurus

We are gathered here today to remember a woman; nay, a figure. We mourn Papa Molly's passing at the hands of the haters with a heavy, heavy heart. She was so young! So young, both in body and in soul. Friends, family, lovers of the groove, I present to you today Papa Molly's final will and testament, which the deceased requested to be presented in the form of a scalding hot jam. Well, without further ado, let's roll it
Track Name: Dies Irae (Ballin in my Swag Tomb)
Hey everybody, Papa Molly here
Talking to you from the grave, yep, I'm dead
I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dirty dirty dead
And it might be going to my head, but
I thought I would tell you all about my shit
Where it's gonna go and who is gonna get it
So just sit back and take some notes cuz
Newsflash, y'all are gonna be broke

Broke broke broke, broke broke
Y'all are gonna be broke
Broke broke broke broke broke broke broke broke
Y'all are gonna, gonna be broke
My parents don't get shit, my sisters don't get shit
None of you get any of my shit
That's right, I'm keeping all of it, ha

Ballin' in my swag tomb, bitches
Ballin' in my swag tomb, hoes
Ballin' in my swag tomb, bitches
Call me King Tut, call me King Tut

Not giving my money to any of you guys
Not gonna spend my riches on you little bitches
You can make cash cuz you're still alive
Catch me floatin' on the River Styx in my Perini Navi
Chillin' in my pyramid like my girl Nefertari
Send my regards to my family (family)
Send my great love to my friends (friends)
But I'm keeping my shit whether or not you all like it
Rollin' like a baller in my grave, in my gold pit
Dollars on dollars and cash upon cash
Ain't leavin' this dumb world without any swag

Dollars on dollars and cash upon cash upon cash upon cash
Solvet saeculum in favilla
I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm deady deady dead
Why would I fuckin' care what's going on in your head, oh
Dead dead, deaditty dead
Dead dead dead dead dead, dead dead dead dead
My parents don't get shit, my sisters don't get shit
None of you get any of my shit
What can I say, I still got ballin' to do

Ballin' in my swag tomb, bitches
Ballin' in my swag tomb, hoes
Ballin' in my swag tomb, bitches
Call me King Tut, call me King Tut
Ballin' in my swag tomb, bitches
Ballin' in my swag tomb, hoes
Ballin' in my swag tomb, bitches
Call me King Tut, call me King Tut
Call me King Tut, call me King Tut

Well, I think we've all learned a valuable lesson today. So, um, uh, go forth and be unto, oh whatever, you get it
But she was going to give me her 24 pack of Roseart colored pencils
Now now, child, as the Bible doth decree: for where your treasure is, your heart will lie also. Although, I was promised some certain light up Sketchers, postmortem. Well, that's about all there is to see here! Let's bury this motherfucker

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