Madchild - Tom Cruise Lyrics

I write in short form
'Cause I'm a warped dwarf that gargles chloroform
Broke a foreign store - in chops, just cause I had a warrent for 'em
I'm fuckin' torn more
My fans, they are my family
They're keeping me away from doing drugs and going gambling
If I am home too long I feel like strangling
So when my thoughts start scrambling
The anger in me gets me tangled annually
I write down goals I must achieve and check 'em manually
Rambling in the studio 'til I'm sure there's no man handling me
Play you like a mandolin - eat you like a damn panini
Flipping like a dolphin - Dan Marino with a Lamborghini
A couple groupie bimbos - boobies popping out their damn bikinis
I wrangle wrestlers, hassle 'em and wrestle 'em
Whip a lasso around these assholes, make a fuckin' mess of 'em
I'm masculine - their messages are full of fluff and estrogen
I'm guessing all of this testosterone
Is what makes me an awesome gnome
Floss 'em 'til my cock's a fuckin' fossil bone

MadChild is immaculate
Wack with a crack faculty
Rolling like tobacco leaves
After they've dried naturally
Accolades from laying tracks like a rap factory
Get sacked, cause I'm back - tackling raps like I'm an athlete
Quit your cackling, shit is just spectacular
Vernacular is sharper than the fangs that hang from Dracula
Kill a silhouette cause I'm iller - there ain't no filling laced
Bad boy, I'll beat you with four pop cans in a pillow case

I remember days of saying, "Hey, check out my roster holmes"
Yo Little Monster's home from concerts, writing constant poems
Busting it up on Posturepedic mattresses with actresses
The fact is that I'm back - more accurate than maps in atlases
But I'm not sure if I lost game or my attractiveness
But it seems that my activities have dropped on sexual activeness
What, am I blacklisted from pornstars and actresses?
May be the most eligible bachelor that just spat vicious
Once we get it cracking, fuck you 'til I break your back bitches
You're no different than the last bitch is - half riches, half fame
Half of you don't even know my real name, that's real lame
Giving up your pussy just to feel faint
Had to trade my heart in for an artery with a steel frame
And part of me thinks maybe you're retarded, what's the deal babe?
What... Just cause I'm famous I don't feel pain?
You don't think you're talking to somebody that's got a real brain?
I despise all of your lies, I just ain't got time to call you out
Polishing my wallet means that's all it about
I knew I couldn't love her, it's another freaking falling out
Killin' it to laugh, I'll fill my prophecy of ballin' out

MadChild is immaculate
Wack with a crack faculty
Rolling like tobacco leaves
After they've dried naturally
Accolades from laying tracks like a rap factory
Get sacked, cause I'm back - tackling raps like I'm an athlete
Quit your cackling, shit is just spectacular
Vernacular is sharper than the fangs that hang from Dracula
Kill a silhouette cause I'm iller - there ain't no filling laced
Bad boy, I'll beat you with four pop cans in a pillow case

I'm eating porridge in a storage locker, in a pair of orange joggers
Life is boring for a blogger, fuck a foreign torn swapper
Kids on computers - little cocky farts and smart mouths
Crazy talking - crappy ass apartments out in Dartmouth
Explosive like I'm Shady with eighty grenade launchers
And I'm the Little Monster, [deplating?] and playing concerts
So yeah my brain's bonkers - pray 'til my name conquers
Creeping from Waikiki to Albuquerque to Yonkers
Still street fighting saying, "[?]"
Maneuver like a juvenile's abuse, without a sponsor
You ain't tough, you're a tonka truck
I'm combination of a fire breathing dragon that's wrestling with a monster truck
It's really nonsense, silly like Willy Wonka's
Chocolate Factory - I'll get back to you when I'm conscious
I'm an upper class puppet master, sipping a cup of Shasta
Tougher cause I've outlasted and suffered through some rough disasters
This time I ain't calling you a bitch, you're a fuckin' bastard
So suck your mother's asshole, you stupid fuckin' asshole

MadChild is immaculate
Wack with a crack faculty
Rolling like tobacco leaves
After they've dried naturally
Accolades from laying tracks like a rap factory
Get sacked, cause I'm back - tackling raps like I'm an athlete
Quit your cackling, shit is just spectacular
Vernacular is sharper than the fangs that hang from Dracula
Kill a silhouette cause I'm iller - there ain't no filling laced
Bad boy, I'll beat you with four pop cans in a pillow case

Back sharper than ever
I'm razor sharp
With a broken heart
And here's a token fart