Picture perfect
I paint the perfect picture
Yab-yum style in a circle in the jungle
Might play some Mungo Jerry
Followed by Sly and the Family
Spaced Cowboys
Poets
Gangsters
Satyrs
Witches
Bacchus and His Boogiers
Playas
Hermaphrodites
The President
And the Mayor...

In line for titty-suckin' and the tenderest of blowjobs
Behold the cosmos painted on the cavewall
The crude scribbles on the stall
The gall, wherewithal, the guts to speak up, out or what
Party Hardy Marty with white girls
Persians from Guam
Pink Warriors
Mocha Swirl
Chinese
Black
Big Papa go for all that
Human frailty flaws
Pop lockin' at the Goth Bash
Necromancer of the stars
I got that
Cosmic Slop
Mixed with a Mata Hari Absinthe
On the rocks
Flame-broiled in sugar by the leather-bound bartender
Smoking mugwort and Mary Jane in April showers
Barbecued pig with a pineapple in its maw
Sun creepin' through the fog
Inside the house with the cosmonauts
Blazin' trails with Del and Bill Clinton
Devin the Dude's doobie's gone missin'
It's the Case of Puff Puff and Git Gone With It
Texas Represent
Dolly Parton's parking the Benz
Right next to the Fishers
And Betty Davis...

Oh hey, come on in
No, we're just gettin' goin'

It's the party of the century and everybody's comin'
Yab-yum style in a circle in the jungle
Electric Pow Wow style
Multidimensional lunar eclipse in a few hours
Pan playing Oriental flute on the isle
New Paris is the Motown of my heart
It's been awhile
Since I felt this crazy happy
Beetlejuice and Buckwheat
In the kitchen
With McBeth trancsending
That's a secret message between him and me
Meaning don't sniff coke out of the carpet
Then try to spell the word transcend
With lipstick in the bathroom mirror of your apartment

The man in the mirror is Michael Jackson

I throw passion parties
For ghetto superstars in the Aquarian Age
Third eye blinkin' at galactic babes
Trying to get a man to dance
Where's Big Papa's head at?
And where's The Empress?
Gettin' groped on the dance floor by some dirty rat
Watch your back, muthafucka
Nah...I'm just fuckin' with ya...
When here comes a green-haired faerie
Writing love poetry on an iApp
Time flies light fast
When Death's grin is wigglin'
Like a toothless barbarians next of kin

Cee-Lo's gigglin' on the sofa
Must be the Soul Food I made him
For the way he made me feel on those Goodie Mob albums
Totally Free
To party past the pain and the sadness
And not let the system warp our perceptions
A man needs some time alone with his thought processes

The man in the mirror has compassion

Buck naked on the back porch
Making a fire under the night sky
I need a party beat next time
Play it live on your pirated satellite Radio Shack device
Young and so full of life
Who needs a compass when you've got ganja
On a planet
Held aloft by elephants riding turtles
All the way down to sidewalk
Where it ends
Is where my house is
Up the stairs
That's where you'll find us

Acid in the Kool-Aid

Strawberries in the smooth-ay

Nude, romantic cocks swaying in the moonbeams...


Written by Big Papa Warrior