Fishy Face
Busdriver Lyrics


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My love jet was supposed to be fuel efficient
But everybody knows that is just a boobish misprint
On the brochure; Oh sure, such a hubris is fit
To procure your pure, yeah, prudish princess.
Back when I put my reproductive glands in a plaster cast
Thinkin' that my Woody Woodpecker would always flabbergast
But my head trouser snake is more like a pamper asp
And I never had the candor to ask, "Am I really all that?" (Uh...)
Way before I ever got to pinch the folds
Of the hottest chicks, comic strips were like ninja scrolls.
And my heart was an iridescent listless cove
Yeah, I'm echoing the rhetoric of pimpin' hoes
From the homies sipping on a Michelob
Yeah, fuck them niggas, they can all just lick my chode.
Because I speak in amorous whispers that wisp her lobe.
I said I speak in amorous whispers that wisp her lobe.
But in order for a lady to ever admit my bulge
I need an entrance fee or an encryption code.
Should I start cookin' crack on the kitchen stove?
Actin' like a superfly stupefied, wearing an Egyptian robe.
Or just join a swing band, get a wingman
Maybe I can pull girls with the old pick-and-roll.
I need a beauty queen from movie scenes to kiss this toad
Not my goofy schemes resulting in me getting a fist to the nose.

Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face
When I'm throwin' "what ifs" at your puffed lips.
Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face
When my sky's beneath your shoes.

Don't go, no, die slowly, cuz we don't get along no more.

And so I figured I could draft a piece of fiction
While you were waiting for food at the pizza kitchen.
Just romanticize the idea of being grief-stricken
Yeah, all grumpy and bummy and all fleabitten.
And now your sex drive is revved up within each piston
I found the perfect way for a nigga to meet chickens.
I'm now the persnickety palindrome piecer
Her fidgety xylophone seeker
Suffering in a used car, FUBAR, with my teeth missin'.
And now I bone a range of after-party harlots
Kickin' this old game like an Atari cartridge.
Just from freelancing with a socialist tribune, I get poon
And give dick to who wants the goo gob
And diss Lou Dobbs and Brit Hume like

Smooches, kisses, smooches, kisses,
Smooches, kisses, smooches, kisses
Smooches, kisses, smooches, kisses
Smooches, kisses, smooches, smooches

Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face
When I'm throwin' "what ifs" at your puffed lips.
Hey, hey, hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face
When my sky's beneath your shoes.

Come on now, no one thinks that real niggas love rappin' nerdy
Or go to art exhibits and museums and view taxidermy.
So go date a slew of tax attorneys
Who have logistically mapped their thirties
But I put them fools on padded gurneys
I hit it when your ass was fat and perky.
But now you look like a Susan Sarandon doll
And I'm as volatile as a human cannon ball.
I still rap like it's commentary for a horse race
With the political impetus of John Kerry's court case
For a vote recount--I got O.G. clout.
I tell hoes, "Peace out" when they become bitter Strawberry Shortcakes
I move on, sleep on a futon arbitrarily in a storage space.
From now on I solemnly make a pledge
To move her in just cause she's great in bed
And grate hearts up on a serrated edge
And break a year lease
While screamin' in your ear piece.

Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face
When I'm throwin' "what ifs" at your puffed lips.
Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face
When my sky's beneath your shoes.





Don't go, no, die slowly, cuz we don't get along no more. (x6)

Overall Meaning

The song "Fishy Face" by Busdriver explores the themes of masculinity, sexuality, and relationships. The lyrics reflect on the insecurities and pressures that come with these topics.


The first verse examines the singer's feelings of inadequacy in his romantic pursuits. He expresses his disappointment with his own sexual abilities, comparing his "head trouser snake" to a "pamper asp" instead of the impressive Woody Woodpecker he had hoped for. The verse also touches on the singer's experiences with objectifying women, as he references "pinching the folds of the hottest chicks" and his own desire for a "beauty queen" to validate him.


The chorus, which repeats throughout the song, showcases the singer's attempts to charm and impress his love interest. He describes making the "fishy face" and "kissy face" in an effort to win her over. However, the chorus also hints at the tension and uncertainty in the relationship, with the line "Don't go, no, die slowly, cuz we don't get along no more" repeated at the end.


The second verse delves deeper into the singer's relationships with women. He acknowledges the manipulative tactics he has used to attract them, such as "persnickety palindrome piecing" and freelancing for a socialist tribune in order to gain sexual favors. He also makes derogatory references to "tax attorneys" and "Susan Sarandon dolls," suggesting a dismissive attitude towards women who don't fit his narrow standards of attractiveness.


Overall, the song Fishy Face explores complex themes of masculinity, sexuality, and relationships through Busdriver's characteristic combination of clever wordplay and introspective lyrics.


Line by Line Meaning

My love jet was supposed to be fuel efficient
I thought my ways of love were supposed to be efficient


But everybody knows that is just a boobish misprint
But that was just a silly mistake


On the brochure; Oh sure, such a hubris is fit
On the advertisement, such overconfidence was fitting


To procure your pure, yeah, prudish princess.
To attract your innocent and conservative partner


Back when I put my reproductive glands in a plaster cast
Back when I was younger and inexperienced in love


Thinkin' that my Woody Woodpecker would always flabbergast
Thinking that I would always impress with my abilities


But my head trouser snake is more like a pamper asp
But my sexual performance is more like a baby snake


And I never had the candor to ask, "Am I really all that?" (Uh...)
And I never had the courage to ask, "Am I really good in bed?"


Way before I ever got to pinch the folds
Before I ever got to have sexual experiences


Of the hottest chicks, comic strips were like ninja scrolls.
Comic strips were like a source of knowledge on women for me


And my heart was an iridescent listless cove
And my heart was a dull and unexciting place


Yeah, I'm echoing the rhetoric of pimpin' hoes
I'm repeating what others say about women and sex


From the homies sipping on a Michelob
From my friends who are casually drinking beer


Yeah, fuck them niggas, they can all just lick my chode.
I don't care about what they think, they can all just go away


Because I speak in amorous whispers that wisp her lobe.
Because I speak in soft and romantic whispers in her ear


I said I speak in amorous whispers that wisp her lobe.
I repeat, I speak in soft and romantic whispers in her ear


But in order for a lady to ever admit my bulge
But in order for a woman to be satisfied with me sexually


I need an entrance fee or an encryption code.
I need to pay or have something special to offer


Should I start cookin' crack on the kitchen stove?
Should I stoop so low as to start making drugs in my kitchen?


Actin' like a superfly stupefied, wearing an Egyptian robe.
Acting like a cool and confident person, wearing fancy clothes


Or just join a swing band, get a wingman
Or just join a music band and have a friend to pick up women with


Maybe I can pull girls with the old pick-and-roll.
Maybe I can successfully seduce women with old tricks


I need a beauty queen from movie scenes to kiss this toad
I need a gorgeous woman to love me despite my flaws


Not my goofy schemes resulting in me getting a fist to the nose.
Not my silly plans resulting in me getting punched in the face


Hey, I make that fishy face, that kissy face
Hey, I make that silly face when I flirt


When I'm throwin' "what ifs" at your puffed lips.
When I'm suggesting wild and romantic ideas to you


When my sky's beneath your shoes.
When I'm beneath you and you're in control


Don't go, no, die slowly, cuz we don't get along no more.
Don't leave, please suffer with me because we don't have a good relationship anymore


And so I figured I could draft a piece of fiction
So I thought I could write a made-up story


While you were waiting for food at the pizza kitchen.
While you were waiting for food at the restaurant


Just romanticize the idea of being grief-stricken
Just make a sad story seem romantic


Yeah, all grumpy and bummy and all fleabitten.
Yeah, sad and poor and unclean


And now your sex drive is revved up within each piston
And now you're more excited for sex than ever before


I found the perfect way for a nigga to meet chickens.
I found the perfect way to seduce women


I'm now the persnickety palindrome piecer
I'm now the person who can put words and ideas together cleverly


Her fidgety xylophone seeker
I'm looking for a woman who's nervous and quirky


Suffering in a used car, FUBAR, with my teeth missin'.
Struggling in a bad situation with missing teeth


And now I bone a range of after-party harlots
And now I have sex with many women after parties


Kickin' this old game like an Atari cartridge.
Playing this old game of seduction like an old video game


Just from freelancing with a socialist tribune, I get poon
Just from working for a newspaper, I get sex


And give dick to who wants the goo gob
And give pleasure to whoever wants it


And diss Lou Dobbs and Brit Hume like
And make fun of conservative political commentators Lou Dobbs and Brit Hume


Smooches, kisses, smooches, kisses,
Kissing and being romantic


Smooches, kisses, smooches, kisses
Kissing and being romantic


Smooches, kisses, smooches, kisses
Kissing and being romantic


Smooches, kisses, smooches, smooches
Kissing and being romantic


Come on now, no one thinks that real niggas love rappin' nerdy
Nobody thinks that cool people like to rap about nerdy things


Or go to art exhibits and museums and view taxidermy.
Or go to art galleries and museums to see stuffed animals


So go date a slew of tax attorneys
So go date a bunch of boring and conservative people


Who have logistically mapped their thirties
Who have carefully planned their lives


But I put them fools on padded gurneys
But I don't care about them or their plans


I hit it when your ass was fat and perky.
I had sex with you when you had a good body


But now you look like a Susan Sarandon doll
But now you look old and unattractive


And I'm as volatile as a human cannon ball.
And I'm unpredictable and uncontrollable


I still rap like it's commentary for a horse race
I still rap with a sense of urgency and excitement


With the political impetus of John Kerry's court case
With the political drive of John Kerry's legal battle


For a vote recount--I got O.G. clout.
For a vote recount - I have the influence and power of an original gangster


I tell hoes, "Peace out" when they become bitter Strawberry Shortcakes
I tell women to leave when they become annoying


I move on, sleep on a futon arbitrarily in a storage space.
I move on with my life and sleep on a cheap couch in a storage unit


From now on I solemnly make a pledge
I promise from now on


To move her in just cause she's great in bed
To move a woman in with me just because we have great sex


And grate hearts up on a serrated edge
And break people's hearts with no remorse


And break a year lease
And leave a rental agreement before it's up


While screamin' in your ear piece.
While being loud and obnoxious




Contributed by Jackson G. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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GRD


on Jazz Fingers

What's the sample sax he uses on Jazz Fingers? Can't find it anywhere!

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