Maintenance Man, O’ Maintenance Man
Understand you’ve a Doctorate’s in Freakology
With sub-degrees in Egyptian Sexual Ankhing, Kama Sutra, Tantra,
I’ve heard various monikers applied to you and your freakish methodology
Coochjie Carpentry, Hammering Handywork, Pulsating Plumbing
Apparently your talents have I underestimated
It’s rumoured many consider you the E.F. Hutton of Sexual Seduction
Upon entering a room you utter little if no words at all,
Preferring to let their ecstatic cries reverberate off the walls
The echoing moans thus announcing your ethereal presence
Hear you got shytt so good it drives a woman to nymphomania
Supposedly been known to leave ‘em strung out in a fetal position
Begging for more even after they’ve been orgasmed out
Got them feenin’ over some dark sweet drug you peddle as dyck-crack
Evidently you must possess some helluva carnal clout
Speculation has it you’re part vampire, part demi-god,
Casting your carnal spells upon the unsuspecting
Breaking down shuga walls, numbing wombs, eliciting pucce floods
Performing miracles, melting e’en the most frigid of femmes
Next thing they realize, dawn be breaking through the blinds
Looking disheveled, Sheets crumpled, Sex permeating room
Left pondering whether you were really live or Memorex
Maintenance Man, O’ Maintenance Man
See I’ve often wondered if you were just mere fiction. . . ‘til now
Yet here before me in the very flesh you do truly stand. . . The Urban Legend!!
Wearing nothing save your Mr. Peabody specs and wicked smile
With a freshly shorn head, veined caramel man-meat in hand
Daymm, guess we’re ‘bout to rewrite “Revenge of The Nerds”
“What’s this you say. . . time to turn off my camera”
“You’re serving me what! OMG!!!!”
“So this is. . .mmmm. . . dyck-crack. . . mmmm!!!”
Understand you’ve a Doctorate’s in Freakology
With sub-degrees in Egyptian Sexual Ankhing, Kama Sutra, Tantra,
I’ve heard various monikers applied to you and your freakish methodology
Coochjie Carpentry, Hammering Handywork, Pulsating Plumbing
Apparently your talents have I underestimated
It’s rumoured many consider you the E.F. Hutton of Sexual Seduction
Upon entering a room you utter little if no words at all,
Preferring to let their ecstatic cries reverberate off the walls
The echoing moans thus announcing your ethereal presence
Hear you got shytt so good it drives a woman to nymphomania
Supposedly been known to leave ‘em strung out in a fetal position
Begging for more even after they’ve been orgasmed out
Got them feenin’ over some dark sweet drug you peddle as dyck-crack
Evidently you must possess some helluva carnal clout
Speculation has it you’re part vampire, part demi-god,
Casting your carnal spells upon the unsuspecting
Breaking down shuga walls, numbing wombs, eliciting pucce floods
Performing miracles, melting e’en the most frigid of femmes
Next thing they realize, dawn be breaking through the blinds
Looking disheveled, Sheets crumpled, Sex permeating room
Left pondering whether you were really live or Memorex
Maintenance Man, O’ Maintenance Man
See I’ve often wondered if you were just mere fiction. . . ‘til now
Yet here before me in the very flesh you do truly stand. . . The Urban Legend!!
Wearing nothing save your Mr. Peabody specs and wicked smile
With a freshly shorn head, veined caramel man-meat in hand
Daymm, guess we’re ‘bout to rewrite “Revenge of The Nerds”
“What’s this you say. . . time to turn off my camera”
“You’re serving me what! OMG!!!!”
“So this is. . .mmmm. . . dyck-crack. . . mmmm!!!”
Closing door, ‘Goodnight Folks’
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