Search Results For 'delilah'

This is a parody of Hey There, Delilah by the Plain White T's. It's about Barry Bonds singing to his daughter. Lyrics Below. Hey there, Aisha/ What’s it like in San Francisco? / We’re playing the New York Mets/ And I’m less popular than disco/ Yeah, it’s true/ Shea Stadium doesn’t love me like you do/ Singing the blues/ Hey there, Aisha/ Don't you worry about the home runs/ Because in just a couple years/ ARod will beat it and I’ll be done/ Yes, I’m screwed/ Pujols will probably do it, too/ Oh, shit it’s true/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Why they’re booing me/ Hey there, Aisha/ I kno... more >

This is a parody of Hey There, Delilah by the Plain White T's. It's about Barry Bonds singing to his daughter. Lyrics Below. Hey there, Aisha/ What’s it like in San Francisco? / We’re playing the New York Mets/ And I’m less popular than disco/ Yeah, it’s true/ Shea Stadium doesn’t love me like you do/ Singing the blues/ Hey there, Aisha/ Don't you worry about the home runs/ Because in just a couple years/ ARod will beat it and I’ll be done/ Yes, I’m screwed/ Pujols will probably do it, too/ Oh, shit it’s true/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Why they’re booing me/ Hey there, Aisha/ I know times are getting harder/ Nobody outside Cali likes me/ It’s a shame to be my daughter/ That’s understood/ Neighbors won’t say hello in the hood/ Not like they should…/ Hey there, Aisha/ I took too many medications/ If every simple song I wrote to you/ Would silence an allegation/ I'd write it all/ If I could grow back my shrunken balls/ I’d be in the Hall/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Why they’re booing me/ I cheat like George Brett using tar/ Booed in living rooms, at games, in bars/ I walk to first ‘cuz I have no other way/ Baseball fans told me to go to hell/ and even though I hit this well/ Nobody takes my record seriously/ Aisha I can promise you/ That by the time we get through/ The world won’t even remember my name/ And I’m to blame/ Hey there Aisha/ I deeply regret roiding but/ It’s douchebaggery more than power/ When these pitchers are avoiding/ Throwing strikes/ Taking all these four-ball hikes / I’m somebody no one likes/ So my Aisha here's to you/ At least there’s you/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Oh it's why they’re booing me/ Why they’re booing me < less

www.makemeyourvp.com LYRICS: Hey there, Obama, what's it like at the convention? I know you don't really know me but I hoped I'd get a mention... I'm your fan. My new tattoo says "yes we can." So does my van. Hey there, Obama, all these books that you've been printin' I just can't believe you found the time to beat Hillary Clinton, but you did. With your smart wife and your cute kid. And other kid. Oh, make me your V.P., oh, make me your V.P. Oh, make me your V.P., oh, make me your V.P. Make me your V.P. Hey there, Obama, listen, we're the perfect ticket, you're half white and I'm all white but we're still black enough to stick it to McCain. Riding on a wave of Chocolate R... more >

www.makemeyourvp.com LYRICS: Hey there, Obama, what's it like at the convention? I know you don't really know me but I hoped I'd get a mention... I'm your fan. My new tattoo says "yes we can." So does my van. Hey there, Obama, all these books that you've been printin' I just can't believe you found the time to beat Hillary Clinton, but you did. With your smart wife and your cute kid. And other kid. Oh, make me your V.P., oh, make me your V.P. Oh, make me your V.P., oh, make me your V.P. Make me your V.P. Hey there, Obama, listen, we're the perfect ticket, you're half white and I'm all white but we're still black enough to stick it to McCain. Riding on a wave of Chocolate Rain. Plus, he's insane. Hey there, Obama, it's a shame about your pastor, now the G.O.P. will try to link you with that spiteful bastard who hates whites. Every campaign has its Reverend Wrights. And other fights. Oh, make me your V.P., oh, make me your V.P. Oh, you were born in '63, oh, approximately. Though November seems so far away, it's getting closer day by day. I'm so excited I can't f**king wait. Unqualified though I might be I still have the audacity to hope you'll pick me for your running mate. Obama, I can promise you, that by the time that we get through, the world won't think America's so lame and you're to blame. Hey there, Obama, few more months of this campaign then you'll be President, it won't matter that your middle name's Hussein, we'll see it through. I'll be your wingman, yes it's true. We'll invade whoever we want to. Hey there, Obama, here's to you. This one's for you. Oh, make me your V.P., oh, your cousin is Cheney. Oh, and that's called irony, oh, make me your V.P. Make me your V.P. Ho oh, whoa oh. Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh. Oh oh, whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh oh. Oh... Obama. To see the video we're parodying, check out http://www.youtube .com/watch?v=EbJtYqBYCV8 < less