“If God had long hair, and a goatee.
And if his eyes looked pretty glazed.
If he looked spaced out.
Would you buy his story?
Would you beleive he had an eye infection?

And yea, yea, God looks baked.
Yea, yea, God smells good.
Yea, Yea, Yea, Yea, Yea
What if God smoked cannibis?
Hit the bong like some of us?
Drove a tye-dyed micro-bus?
And he subscribes to Rolling Stone?

When God made this place, in the begining.
Did he plant any seeds?
Or did he put them there for Adam and Eve,
so they’d be hungry for the apple that the snake was always offering?

And yea, yea, God rolls great.
Yea, yea, God smells good.
Yea, yea, yea, yea, yea.
What if God smoked cannibis?
Do you suppose he’d drive a bus?
When he made the plattapus
When he created earth our home
Does he like Pearl Jam or the Stones?
Do you think he rolls his own?
Up there in Heaven on the throne.
And when the saints go marching home,
Maybe he sits and smokes a bowl….”

I bet you’re wondering how I knew
That Prince Charles and Lady Di were through.
Was waiting in line at the grocery store.
Took a peek at the dirt about Demi Moore.
And it took me by surprise I must say
When I found out the Pope was gay.

I read it in the tabloids.
Elvis Presley’s doing just fine.
They put it in the tabloids.
Got a look at Fergi’s boobs, my my.
Honey, honey, yeah.

You know JFK didn’t really die.
They got a picture and he looks all right.
And Ross Perot’s hanging out with ET.
This woman had a kid at a hundred and three.

And you could have seen it all for yourself
‘Cause it’s right there upon the shelf.
Oh, I read it in the tabloids.
You know Madonna used to be a boy.
I saw it in the tabloids
Right next to a cure for hemorrhoids.
Honey, honey, yeah.

He likes to set up colored people.
He likes to frame the colored people.

Officer Fuhrman driving through Brentwood
At night with a glove in his bag, his evidence bag.
Waits at the Bronco; opens the window
To leave a few drops on the floor, a smudge on the door.

Officer Mark Fuhrman,
Where did that blood come from?
Officer Mark Fuhrman,
He dropped the bloody glove.

Simpson and Kato back from a burger and fries
at a restaurant near. A note’s in the rear.
O.J. is napping, dropping his socks near the bag
But there’s somebody there, planting some hair.

Officer Mark Fuhrman,
(He likes to set up colored people)
Where did that blood come from?
Officer Mark Fuhrman,
(He likes to set up colored people)
He dropped the bloody glove.

O.J., O.J.
O.J., I think you did it.
But I wanna know for sure.
You expect people to believe that there are people actually playing golf at ten o’ clock at night?
Ya wanna know what I think?
I think you’re gonna get passed around like Madonna in an NBA locker room.

O.J. You slime.
O.J. You gave the devil the ball, you whore.
O.J. You love it!
O.J., O.J.

Well, we’ve all had enough O.J. coverage in our lives.
Me, you, nobody cares any more
and O.J. you’re just sitting there looking bored,
spending two hundred thousand dollars an hour on legal fees.
I’m not impressed.
I just want you off my t.v.
Get off my t.v.

O.J. Nobody uses a cellular phone 20 feet away from their house. Come on!
O.J., How much did you pay Rosa?
And now you’re going to hell and some loser named Kato has a career.
You make Ike Turner look like a pussy.

O.J. Get the hell off my t.v.
Maybe you’ll get an endorsement from Slice.
O.J. You bastard.
Get off my t.v.!

Got a flat in Timbuktu
Waiting for AAA
And I saw that single headlight through the rain
Flagged the geezer in the car down,
He was going the wrong way
We sped away and left rubber on all four lanes
He pulled a quick u-turn,
And hit a pickup from Montana
While plowin’ down a fire hydrant too
Windshield wipers slappin’ time
As he committed several traffic crimes
This man’s like a one man wreckin’ crew

Speedin’s just a little bit of what he put me through
He went off the road and hit a tree
Yeah drivin’ can’t be easy when you’re 4 foot 2.
Drivin’s not that difficult to do,
But it’s difficult to do if you’re Mr. Magoo

When we drove right through a coal mine
And hit a school bus filled with nuns
We dragged along a string of traffic poles
Through all kinds of weather
Through eighteen hit and runs
I still love that baby
Kept us on the run

One day he lost his specs
Oh lord! He let ‘em slip away
Still lookin’ for them glasses
I hope he finds them.
Well I?d trade all of my tomorrows for some Dramamine today
I just hope they know which body bag is mine.

Speedin’s just a little bit of what he put me through
His drivin’, you know it scared the pee right out of me, yeah
He’ s swervin’ and he’s weaving’, and he doesn’t have a clue
You know divan?s not that difficult to do
But it’s difficult to do if you’re Mr. Magoo

Oh, lucky for us I know a little used shortcut
Oh look out, oh look out,
Oh look out, oh look out,
Oh look out, watch out now
Mr. Magoo.