Flakes - Frank Zappa
Flakes, flakes! Flakes, flakes! They don't do no good They never be workin' when they oughta should They waste your time They're wastin' mine California's got the most of them Boy, they got a host of them Swear to god they got the most At every business on the coast Swear to god they got the most At every business on the coast They got the flakes Flakes, flakes! They can't fix yer brakes You ask 'em, "where's my motor? " "well, it was eaten by snakes" You can stab 'n' shoot 'n' spit But they won't be fixin' it They're lyin' an' lazy They can be drivin' you crazy Swear to god they got the most At every business on the coast Swear to god they got the most At every business on the coast Take it away, bob I asked as nice as I could If my job would Somehow be finished by Friday Well, the whole damn weekend came 'n' went, Frankie Wanna buy some acid, Bob? You know what, they didn't do nothin' But they charged me double for Sunday Now, you know, no matter what you do They gonna cheat and rob you And then they'll give you a bill that'll get your senses reelin' And if you do not pay They got computer collectors That'll get you so crazy till your head'll go through the ceilin' Yes it will! One, two three four! One, two, uh, four! One, two, three, four! One, two, three, four!
Artist: Frank Zappa
Title: Flakes