Fuckin The Dough

He's fuckin' the dough, fuck
fuckin' the dough
fuckin' the dough, fuck
fuckin' the dough
fuckin' the dough, fuck
he's fuckin' the dough

Usta work in this dump called the PIZZA PIT
in King of Prussia
Spinnin' pies and oggling thighs
We'd move out 750 grease wheels on a good day
This beaner name of Pepina came in on the weekends
when the place was fulla college pukes
Motherfucker always watched the coeds grubbin pie
With a twinkle in his bloodshot eye
And we never really knew just why
He kissed the gurls and made em cry
Til one late night
We had to go
To that special room
Where they folded the dough
We climbed up the ladder and looked in the window
And there was Pepino
His pants down around his ankles 
and his wet burrito buried in a big handul
of that fresh, warm, pizza dough!!!

Which way did he go?
P-P-Pepino
He's Fuckin the dough
For pizza to go
Well what do ya know?
He's ready to blow
He's Fuckin' the Dough

We stood there and watched that twisted Mexican
makin love to that dough pile
Flour dust flyin as he delivered the goods
Then he carefully took that liquid center
hunk o' dough and set it aside
We all knew he hated those Farakhan pricks
in their bow ties that came in every Saturday nite
Or maybe he had designs on the lesbian coalition
over there in booth 9
But one thing was for sure
Ol Pepino liked to watch folks eat his jit
almost as much as he liked servin it up
And ya know we never really said nothin about it
Cuz frankly, watchin assswipe common fucks
eatin pizza fulla wetback tadpoles
Is my idea of fun too...

Which way did he go?
P-P-Pepino
He's Fuckin the dough
For pizza to go
Well what do ya know?
He's ready to blow
He's Fuckin' the Dough...