With Hubbabubba on my mind and a K-Mart in sight I wouldn't think twice about calling the Vice I wear Uso in my jacket and sugarcoated donuts for glasses And you can call me 4-eyes, you can call me Old Spice All I hear is thunder in a blue balloon Just around the corner there's summer and a bag of baboons I've got a taste for perfume You taste like toast in a jumpsuite Like a canary in a mine and a "fuck" in a rhyme I'm feelin' filthy uptight and Vanilla Ice-like 5-VICE, 5-VICE I got a futon in my kitchen, Peter Pan will never land and listen And you can know karate, you're just a Yoohoo in a carny All I hear is thunder in a blue balloon Just around the corner there's summer and a bag of baboons I've got a taste for perfume You taste like toast in a jumpsuite