I'm sick and tired of you calling me names. I'm sick and tired of your childish games. I'm sick and tired of your bullshit brats. Cocaine stupor and anxiety attacks. Picked up the magazine I see your face. You're nothin' boy a goddamn waste. With the lamest fashions on your back. You're never happy a hypochondriac. Don't bust my chops baby don't bust my chops. Don't bust my chops baby don't bust my chops Yeah. You're a styling queen and an alley cat. Too many chocolates keep a fat man fat. You're a pain in the ass and your on the loose. All I get from you is your bad attitude. Dirty mouth it's all I can bear. Get outta here bitch 'cause you're nowhere. Always wearin' that cheap perfume. Can always tell when you're in the room. Don't bust my chops baby don't bust my chops. Don't bust my chops baby don't bust my chops Ah. Don't bust my chops baby don't bust my chops. Don't bust my chops baby don't bust my chops. Don't bust my chops baby don't bust my chops. Don't bust my chops baby don't bust my chops Alright