Beck - Hollywood Freaks lyrics

"What, say what?" "He my nun!"

Hot milk! M-m-m-mtweak my nipple
Champagne and ripple shamans go cripple
My sales go triple

We drop lobotomy beats evaporated meats
On the hi-tech streets we go solo
Dance floors and talk shows hot dogs, No Doz
Hot sex in back rows

I wanna know what makes you scream
Be your twenty million dollar fantasy
Treat you real good expensive jeans
Hollywood freaks on the Hollywood scene

Touch it real good if you want a piece
Party people know I'm that type of freak

People look so snooty
Take pills, make them moody
Automatic bazooty zero to tutti frutti
Sex in the halls niagara Falls
Local shopping malls receive anonymous calls

Hot like a cheetah neon mamacita
Eat at Taqueria pop lockin' beats from Korea
Looking like jail bait
Selling lots of real estate
Looking like a hot date banging like an 808

Do you want to feel this?
Do you want to feel this?

Norman Schwartzkopf!
Something tells me you want to go home!
Champagne, bibles, custom clothes you own
Calling up from special area codes
Hollywood notes with the Hollywood phones
I got nothing to do, nowhere to go
I'll tell you what you want
If you want to know

Satin sheets tropical oils
Turn up the heat 'til the swimming pool boils
Let all the neighbors read it in the papers
Making all those gentlemen
Cry realistic tears

Jocking my Mercedes! Probably have my baby!
Shop at Old Navy! He wish he was a lady!

Do you wanna feel this?
Do you wanna feel this?

Dance floors, all the talk shows
Hot dogs, No Doz hot sex in back rows
You know hyundais, tricked out
Christmas in July 62 percent!
Yeah, you fill in the blanks
Sha na na na na na, yeah! Tutti frutti!
Automatic bazooti!
Yeah, I'm mixin' business with leather!
(laughs)