(Written by Ryan Matthew and Johnny San, with Graham Slaughter and Krista Smith)
*Released December 2007 as a special RFC Christmas present
Sitting on his throne in the North Pole
Letting his minions do all the dirty work
Little do you know the fat man ain't fat at all
He's a big fat jerk
You see, the Santa that brings you presents
Isn't really Santa at all
Why else do you think there are so many
Different Santas?
Think about it
How many effing names does this guy have?
Let's find out
Number one - Santa Claus
Number two - St. Nick
Number three - Pere Noel
Number four - Popo Jijo
Number five - El Santos
Number six - Kris Kringle
Number seven - Wilford Brimley
Number eight - Father Christmas
And you know
Santa is a master of disguise
You got red Santa, green Santa
Santa's even blue
Santa with glasses - no glasses
Santa on the booze
Vacation Santa - cola Santa
Santa's at the mall
Parade Santa - Gay Santa
Santa's short n' tall
Fat Santa, skinny Santa, black Santa too
Jolly Santa, cartoon Santa
Even a Jew
He's called a hippopotoyamaka
You know if you rearrange the letters in Santa
You get Satan
... or ants with an extra "a"
So it's like Aants
But he's not Satan
And he's not Aants
He's Tony Danza baby
Santa is Tony Danza
It's an extravaganza
He guest starred on Bonanza
And wishes you a happy Kwanza
He once dated a tranza
Found out she was a man-za
So everyone raise your hands-a
Cause this is the end of this stanza
Stanza, stanza,stanza
Noel
(Written by Ryan Matthew and Richard Harrington; Lead vocal by Lil' Tyrone)
B-Side of 2006's "Squirrels!"
And now for this special presentation, Lil' Tyrone
Here's the story of the Untitled Man
Who lives off in a far away land
He wears two pairs of untitled shoes
No hand on the brand, he sings untitled blues
His untitled sister with a blister says "Mister,"
"Can you spare a pair of the shoes you wear?"
"No way," he'd say with a glare n' a stare
Then offer to share a little bit of cab fare
The Untitled Man eats an untitled pie
Perhaps made from cinnamon n' rye
He got drunk 'til he stunk like a skunk
Then he ran down Magnum P.I.
Who, who, who is he?
Does he drink his own pee?
Who, who, who is that dude
I'd sure like to know, I'd sure like to know
I'd sure like to know, wouldn't you?
The Untitled Man sniffs untitled powder
Then he put his head in a bucket of chowder
He goes to Burger King, but he never gets a Whopper
He once saw the Big Bopper eat Cyndi Lauper
Hi, my name is Lil' Tyrone
And when I grows up, I wants to be on the cereal
But my momma says I'll probably just be a serial killer
Can I have fifty cents please?
The Untitled Man might be Abe Lincoln
But he's probably my daddy, that's some heavy, heavy thinking
And drinking!
Ooh, he like the rum
He'd say to all the girls "Nice bum, where ya from?"
He walked out the do', with mommy the ho'
Now we can't afford the R, cause we so po'
The Untitled Man has gone fare away
Wherever he is, fuck him, I say
Now you can see, nothing is for free
Life will only be what you make it to be
Listen to Tyrone - - sticks n' stones will break your bones
But names will never hurt him.
(Written by Ryan Matthew)
B-Side of 2007's "Yer Mom"
She likes me
But she doesn't like my banana tree, no no no
We were gonna marry
And start a family
But then she saw my banana tree
And flee flee flee
Flee the country
Now I don't see
Where she be
She left me because of my banana tree
Banana tree
She could be sixty years old with no teeth in her mouth (I'd do her)
She could be arctic freezing cold, living six feet south (I'd do her)
She could kill me with her smile like a purple crocodile (I'd do her)
And even tho she's outta style I'd still walk a hundred mile (I'd do her)
She could be missing one eye or not know how to read (I'd do her)
She could wear a clashing tie or get cut and never bleed (I'd do her)
She could sell agility then steal it all from me (I'd do her)
Then talk some blashpemy and give it all to charity (I'd do her)
Chorus
If I asked her for her number she could shoot me down like cupid (I'd do her)
She gives me wicked lumber tho she says this song is stupid (I'd do her)
I don't know why (I'd do her)
Chorus
(Written by Ryan Matthew and Brian Crofton)
Released in 2004 on "Nice Bum, Where Ya From?"
My name is Dr. Acula
And I wear women’s clothes
Sweaters made of pink cashmere
With black and white down below
I will not drink your blood
Or bite you on the neck
My woody goes by Edward
And the 8th plan went to heck
I got seven on the table, 14 that are able
But I want my woman back
Nurses in the OR, Bella’s getting FUBAR
And I’m just about ready to crack
And they say “ooooooooooh, here comes the Doctor”
Yeah, here comes the Doctor
Is it Glen or Glenda?
Who’s the bride of the monster?
Glen or Glenda?
What’s the question that haunts ya?
My name is Dr. Acula
And I dress in women’s attire
I don’t want a useless corpse
Cause Bella is my only vampire
And he say “oooooooh, here comes the Doctor”
Yeah, here comes the Doctor
Is it Glen or Glenda?
Who’s the bride of the monster?
Glen or Glenda?
What’s the question that haunts ya?
(Written by Ryan Matthew and Brian Crofton)
Released in 2003 on "Bacon & Eggs"
Sometimes it rains in June
Why did you leave so soon
Without a kiss good-bye, we could've made a try
And now I'm stuck here cryin' my eyes out
It's not even noon
Oh, sometimes the sky falls down grey
Hearts are left without a thing to say
So we speak thru our eyes, protected with a disguise
And we hide all of our feelings and pretend it's okay
CHORUS:
Raining in June
Raining In June
I'm so hung up on you
When it rains in June
These days I don't know what to do
Should I move on while I'm still thinking of you
And the kiss we shared, we weren't even prepared
I guess what they say 'bout fools rush in is totally true
CHORUS
I'll wake up next to me
And bury my memories
But I'll never forget or even try to regret
And we'll never know if it was even meant to be
CHORUS
(Written by Ryan Matthew)
Released in 2003 on "Bacon & Eggs"
Yo yo
What's up?
Big Momma D in tha house
I be representin' and it's wiggity wiggity wack
So throw your hands in the air
And shake them around like you just don't care
Don't make me pimp slap your ghetto booty
Back to Compton
That ain't ill
If you wanna be def you gotta
Shake your honey maker
Over to my crib
Boo ya