Look who's pulling up outside
   With a trunk full of fun
   And a European ride
   Heard that you were going for away
   And we are all so happy son
   That we were on the way
   You're a back stabbing Hollywood pimp
   Microphone, silver tone, cellular phone
   We know that you're working for the devil
   Bitch slap, star map dinner at Jones
   Stood in line to get burned
   Hey baby doll
   Your reservation is confirmed
   Tell the boss I've got her on the way
   And he said with a smile
   That's the seventh one today
  
  
   Chorus
  
   How'd you get so mean and nasty
   I didn't want you to come to my party anyway
   He's going to play you a dream
   Dress you up in chocolate
   And finish you with cream
   Squeeze you till you're warm and woozy
   And then pop you on the saddle
   Of a silver moto guzzi