The Entourage - Screeching Weasel

Here they are, the entourage

It doesn’t matter what your job is

You’d all be right here sucking up in any case

Baby Fat let me tell you what your problem is

Oh I can’t wait, this’ll be great

Please proceed

You just don’t know when to back off

And someday somebody’s gonna get sick of it

What!

Beat up a guy in a wheelchair

You don’t have to squash a cockroach to kill it

You bloated garden gnome

You think you can huff and puff and blow my house down

Well have at it

But you’ll answer to Tommy Swank

I’m his right hand man

You’re just the drunk he gave a job to out of pity

Oh here we go

Hey Queeg, still selling weed

What’s it like to go doctor shopping

Every week

For your oxy contin

That big Swank must keep you around

To serve as a personal circus clown

Cause now

You couldn’t tech your way out of a paper bag

Stompanato the brain dead lush

Need another barrel of bourbon there, Rummy?

Holy cow, now he’s shaking and sweating

Hey, but he’s good at pretending it’s funny

Now here comes Jerry Japan

What cruel prick let you pick out that name

You poor son of a bitch

You really think it sounds cool

Remember when your teenage girlfriend dumped you cause the zoloft left you

impotent?

But you’re a badass now Aintcha Jerry don’t worry nobody thinks you’re a fairy

Oh no

Because they don’t think about you at all

Oh no

Because they don’t think about you at all