The Other End of Paradise
Hey, All You Andy Milonakis Fans
Now that he's got his own show, there's a pretty good chance that some other sites might start hosting Andy's lyrics, but I want it clear that I had them first. Of course, I only have the two (Andy's a busy man, it's hard to get him to correct them for me), but if you all do me the favor of checking out what else this site has to offer (specifically, over on the
home page), I'll make the effort to get some more of them up here.
Thanks a million, and keep on doin' your ducky whores.
~SuedeCaramel, blogger extraordinaire.
P.S.-- Specific songs you'd like to see the lyrics for? E-mail me at SuedeCaramel@Gmail.com
Andy Milonakis Lyrics-- Chonky
Why am I such a honky, why do I like blonky
and why do I like that fucking chonky?
chonky is cool, chonky ain't no fool,
chonky tells me the secret word of the day, it's kinda like the golden rule.
And then we scream real loud and proud and loud and proud, yeah,
we're all like "Woooah, that's the secret word of the day, aaaaah."
Oh wait, nah, that ain't chonky, you stupid motherfucker, it's conky,
you stupid bitch-ass honky. Chonky or conky,
Conky is concubine ever since I gave that bitch a cup of the strong-ass wine,
I had that bitch from behind and the metal got all rusty, she wasn't thinking right.
I gave her my ill honky tongue, and she shocked me that bitch-ass chonky,
I mean oops, I mean Conky.
I said word, yo, Conky is my bitch, and for that I'm proud
The word of the day is "dick". So put your metal lips around it, bitch.
And don't forget to scream real loud, and proud, and proud,
honky-chonky-conky-ronky.
Blonky-chonky-vonky-donkey-fonky-ronky-vonky, nonky-fonky-fonky,
Ron Popiel makes good informercials that's true, that's true.
set it and forget it, set and it forget, set it and set it and set it and forget it,
set that shit and forget it, I'm puttin that fuckin' rotisserie chickenon the little spit,
and I just set that motherfuckin' shit and forget it.
One time I forgot it, and it got cold, so don't really forget it,
just forget it for the most part, but come back to it if you want to eat a hot meal. Peace.
Andy Milonakis Lyrics-- Crispy New Freestyle
meet me meet me meet me meet me
meet me don't beat me just meet me at the waffle house
i'm a mouse from ecuador
you're a duck
and you're a ducky whore
you like to suck duck dick all day
i like to suck mouse dick all day too
that don't me i am a jew
i am a rat bastard
and i'm a rapper thats a crapper
i dont like to rap too much cuz I know I can't do it
but you know what my rhymes are fluid
so i don't want to lie i just want to give you a pizza pie
and say thats amore thats a whore-a
suck my dick all in its glor-ay
its only three inches but thats okay
you could fit it in your throat piece
and you don't have to worry about anything
its a nice little tiny package
and you know what its all yours for the small price of 29.99
so lets go do some lines
or we can not do drugs and we can just chill out with my thugs
from westchester the best chester
we got all the honkeys in the world
we like to take little girls
on the zone coaster
and then put 'em in the toaster
until they're nice and brown
until they hear the nice sound of me rhymin' on timin'
i said i want the diamonds
i want the duckets
i want the buckets
i wanna just say fuck it mom!
i don't wanna go to bed let me stay up another hour!
i'll take a shower in the morning before i go to school
momma why you such a fool why you gotta play me
i ain't gay G my dad is
thats why he likes to fuck with other men
thats why he looks like a little hen
thats why he likes to fuckin say he knows about yen
but he's never been to japan so to take the frying pan and slap me with
it
yeah thats what you wanna do
i know it i learned it from you dad i learned it from you
thats why i do this
thats why i drink Cris'
thats why i drink piss
from old businessmen when they piss in my mouth
and they treat me like you dad
like you you you
i wanna be a jew like sammy davis junior
oh my god i like junior mints
lets talk about that for a second before i fuckin wreck it
i wanna eat butter pecans
and i wanna change my name to stan the man
and i want a golden ham for my birthday
daddy i want the golden goose
daddy i want a golden moose
daddy i want you to nail me in the caboose
with your fuckin tonsil
i wanna ronsul
oh ronsul i hate you ronsul
i hate when i make up new words
but i don't hate when i make up new birds
thats a flying pikamunununu
thats a flying plukalakalaka
oh new birds i love thee
oh i love money
and i love sunny d
fuck the grape stuff
or the purple stuff
or the nurple stuff!
i just want the orange stuff
i want the white stuff in my hair
i don't use nair on my back
but i'm a monkey and i get funky
and i'm a junky
but thats so... gravy
like the train
like the insane motha fucka from new york come with it
while i spit it
while i get with it
i'll fuck it up fuck it up fuck it up for you
for you and your crew
and i'll just say its so breezy easy
i like peasy its a funny word
i like funny words
i like funny words
amen.
Okay, so I know I'm way overdue to put Ben's shit up here, but there's been some technical difficulties in the past, oh, six months, so nothing's gone on here so far. But I got a special request from my friend Jesse to post a little poem he wrote around Christmas time, and since he's all up in Iraq and shizzit...well, I gotta do my part for the war effort. Consider this my victory garden.
---
T'was the morning of Christmas, and all through Iraq,
everybody was wondering when they were gonna be back.
It was the first Christmas that most of us weren't home.
Everybody felt the same way, so nobody was alone.
Is it a white Christmas? A question of yes or no.
Except in Iraq, cause it's rare to snow.
The artificial tree stood, with out presents of our own.
I think Santa took note of the no fly zone.
Probably a good idea since Rudolph's nose is so bright.
We'd think it was an enemy rocket, and cancel that flight.
To some a day off, others a normal day.
Or just letter writing time to somebody far away.
When mail finally arrives, everybody scurries about.
With fingers crossed for their name to be called out.
We've seen enough of this dump, its time to go home.
We can't stress it enough, every time we call home.
Back in March when we convoyed up from Kuwait.
With the harsh mind state that death was our fate.
We had to adjust quick, get used to our new ways.
Things like not showering for more than fifteen days.
Distinguishing between civilians, and Iraqi troops.
Finding the nearest berm to take morning poops.
Wearing week old underwear, fingernails packed with dirt.
Crammed ourselves in bunkers during every scud alert.
During the convoys, having to pee in an empty bottle.
Puking up the malaria pill that we all had to swallow.
Regularly getting bitten by the sand fleas.
Guard duty at night, with our N.V.G.'s.
That scorching sun, there's nothing that hotter.
Forcing yourself to drink that boiling hot water.
Sleeping on equipment, to stay off the ground,
'cause a scorpion in you boot awaits to be found.
Following 3rd ID, just behind the Marines.
Avoiding road obstacles, like Iraqi debris.
It became time to test the courage within us,
with enemy contact giving us that adrenaline rush.
It finally came the time for the Iraqi's to realize;
We considered ourselves, and them, as the good guys.
There was only one man there we were searching for.
Thus we didn't want to hurt them, and kill no more.
Finally we found the old man, dazed and confused.
And we pooped in his bathtub that he never used.
"You can take those scuds, and shove them up your rear!
Thanks to you Im stuck in Iraq for a whole freakin' year!"
Aside from my fussing, me and my friends getting bombed.
My bank accounts sits yelling, "Thanks a lot, Saddam!"
On this Christmas day, when we seem all alone.
We dream of future events, when we arrive back home.
We would all like to thank America for supporting our fight.
Merry Christmas to all, and too all a good night.
Written by:
Jesse Melanson
US Army
Currently serving in Iraq
This is going to be the new guest writer's spot, for the wit and musings of my witty and amusing friends and contacts. For the moment, guest writers are only by invitation, but in the future, I may review solicited posts, so keep your hopes up and your pens down, people.
