lirik lagu jazz emu - funkbot 10,000
[verse 1]
the scientists at cern
were violently divided
is it pr~nounced ‘gwee~dance’
or is it pr~nounced ‘gwhy~dance’?
physically fightin’ round
the large hadron collider
when suddenly a sound
comes rumblin’ from inside her
[pre~chorus 1]
the boss of science opens up the lid
and from within a metal thing
comes out with arms and legs and sh~t
it pokes a trumpet from its head
opens up its mouth and says
(trumpet noises)
[chorus 1]
funkbot
ten thousand
(i’m a funky robot)
he travelled here through time and sp~ce
to fix the sh~t that needs sorting
funkbot
ten thousand
(obey the funk)
the scientists put down their fists
and all take up the jazz organ
[verse 2]
two wicked criminials
doing the unthinkable
robbing a civilian
the pinnacle of pitiful
he’s acting tough but they call his bluff
saying “give us your stuff or we’ll k!ll you and stuff”
[pre~chorus 2]
but suddenly a sound comes from behind
a funky riff giving perfect time
(trumpet noises)
[chorus 2]
funkbot
ten thousand
(i’m a funky robot)
the thugs became masseuses and
both gave the man a nice facial
funkbot
so arousing
(obey the funk)
just plug him in and you’ll see all
his s~xy hip thrust gyrations
[bridge]
when life gets tough and causes you to fret
when you’re feeling overwhelmed by insurmountable consumer debt
don’t fret on taxes, don’t stress with rent bills
funkbot’s got saxes in place of his genitals
(trumpet noises)
(get down)
[chorus 3]
funkbot
ten thousand
(i’m a funky robot)
thank you, funkbot, that l!ck was nice
but do you have any actual financial advice?
funkbot
funkbot?
(funk. funky. funk.)
[pre~chorus 3]
a man lies dying on the floor
he’s broken ten ribs, maybe more
funkbot to the rescue, d~mn
that’s one h~ll of a funky jam!
(funk)
[chorus 4]
funkbot
funk robot, please, i’m dying
do you have any… any kind of medical equipment?
(i’m a funky robot)
don’t pull out a marimba! (funkbot)
i don’t need a marimba in here. i don’t need any kind of other instrument!
help! argh, it hurts (funkbot)
this is not how i was expecting to go out. with a creepy~ass robot just dancing next to my corpse. could you at least look me in the eye when i’m dying? ugh, geeze louise! who even made you? are you, you like, part of a race? of other funk robots? who, you just stand there, argh, my spleen! who just stand there when people are dying from spleen and rib injuries? that’s not okay! i’m not okay with this funk robot. just, take a look at yourself as a species!
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