Disco Bob Is A Damn Fool

Intro

Rolling up to the damn venue, lights flicker, velvet rope

Disco Bob lurches out the cab, lookin like a walking joke

Afro bouncing, mustache screaming, what the hell is that guy’s deal

White suit blinding half the crowd, gold medallions spinning like wheels

Verse 1

Who let this jackass show his face, thinking he’s hot, but he ain’t

Platform shoes with actual fish, what are you, a circus saint?

Everyone’s staring, trying not to puke, he flashes a slimeball grin

I shove my ticket at the beefy door, pray to God he won’t walk in

Pre-Chorus

He’s swaggering up, acting tough, like he runs uptown

Bob, nobody cares you strut, everybody wants you outta town

Chorus

He sauntered in lookin slick, disco Bob on parade

Afro like a damn bush, strutting like he owned the place

Leisure suit so white you’d swear it was a joke

Gold chains clanking, mustache so thick, looking for his folks

Verse 2

Platform shoes, what the hell, dead fish flopping in them man

Crowd just stared, jaws dropped down, who the hell let him in

Glitter falling from his chest, medallions nearly took my eye

Every step his suit flashed bright, what a clown parade gone by

Pre-Chorus

Every gawker tried not to laugh

But Bob kept acting so smug

Didn’t know he looked like trash

Idiot with his bugged-out strut

Chorus

He sauntered in lookin slick, disco Bob on parade

Afro like a damn bush, strutting like he owned the place

Leisure suit so white you’d swear it was a joke

Gold chains clanking, mustache so thick, looking for his folks

Post-Chorus

Oh what a fool

Oh what a mess

Disco Bob you’re out of luck, dressed for regrets

Bridge

Bartender’s wheezing, can’t believe his damn eyes

Bob orders a drink, nearly spills it on some guy

Those stupid shoes make a slap, stinking up the damn floor

People pinching their noses, cursing him out by the door

Verse 3

He winks at the DJ like he’s bloody James Bond

Trips on a cable, there goes his fish shoes—damn, they’re gone!

White suit’s got mustard from a hot dog he dropped

Gold chains swinging, but they just look like junk he copped

Post-Chorus

Oh what a fool

Oh what a mess

Disco Bob, time to go home, you’re failing that disco test

Verse 4

Disco Bob spins around, nearly whacks the bouncer’s head

Someone yells, "What’s your problem?" as he steps in spilled red

Sock full of glitter pops out his pants like some sick twisted joke

Everyone groans as his cologne makes us all nearly choke

Pre-Chorus

He’s posing for a mirror, thinking he’s hot stuff

But all we’re counting is the seconds ‘til he finally gets cuffed

Chorus

He staggers out the door, what a total disgrace

Left a wake of pissed-off people and a stank in the place

White suit covered in stains, gold chains swinging in shame

Thanks for the damn nightmares, Bob, go home you walking pain

Post-Chorus

Ah what a clown

Ah what a sight

Studio 54 is closed, don’t come back tonight

Outro

Disco Bob’s stumbling, falls flat on his dumb face

Suit ripped open, his boxers got disco balls in place

People snapping photos, can’t wait to get him online

He’s cursing out the world, yelling, "Y’all can kiss my behind"

He’s picking up his broken heel, screaming at the bouncers too

Some kid’s pointing and laughing, whispering, “That guy’s through”

Gold chains in his hand, medallions tangled like his brain

Disco Bob limps off, drenched in stench and shame

Final Hook

Oh what a sight, what a disaster, what a clown

Get your fishy shoes and your busted crown

Disco Bob, don’t bother with that door anymore

Even Studio 54 can’t handle your crap, now hit the floor