World’s Worst Drum Programmer

I can do a sixteen beat
But I can't do much else
So if I got you shuffling your feet
You might have a funk deficiency

The same as me
White as can be
I always do my taxes

The same old song
I need some money for a better one

And people say I'm the world's worst
Drum programmer
I'm bad at math but I'm good at grammar
And they don't post my remixes anymore

I can feel the world close in
Sundays when I'm restless
If you could see the shape I'm in
Then you might have a hope deficiency

You're just like me
Bright as can be
I'll let the sun come shining
Into our heads
Until we're buried, gone and very dead

And you can tell I'm the world's worst
Drum programmer
I sing off key but I've got good *timbre
And they don't post my remixes anymore

I'll make you dance
I'll make you dance
I'll make you move your body
Into the sun
Until we're undercover number one
And they say "man, you're the world's worst
Drum programmer."
I effin' hope that they all get cancer
Cause they don't post my remixes--
No, not Disk Mastah Smokabitch--
No they don't post my remixes
Anymore