Gone Funky

She’s been playin' them low-life honky tonks for thirty years in Texas
She’s sick and tired of all them Reba songs they keep requestin'
She’s about to lose her voice; her hair’s fallin' out, and there ain’t nobody
clappin'
So she think’s she’ll shave her head, buy a boom box and just turn to rappin'
She can’t keep up, with them country healthers
Gonna learn to shake her booty, just like Salt N' Pepa
She done gone funky, a brand new tattoo
She done gone funky, a big nose ring too
She done gone funky, her favouite rap song’s «Shoop»
She done gone funky
Hah, you go girl!
Well, he never was good at suckin' up to all them country disc jockeys
It seemed like every dag-blammed weekend, some new hat act bumps him off the
Opry
He had to sell his bus, his house, his cows; ain’t had a hit since the sixties
Well he’s fed up with hearin' about Travis, Garth, Tim McGraw, Collin Raye,
Billy Ray Cyrus, John Michael Montgomery, and Joe Diffie
Then he saw Johnny Cash on MTV
Bought a new toupee, said: «That's the place for me.»
He done gone funky, too ahead for his roots
He done gone funky, burned his cowboy boots
He done gone funky, wearin' platform shoes
He done gone funky!
Oh, Suki
Oh well, he moved up to Nashville, had big dreams of being a songwriter
Ha ha, but the only thing he’s written down lately are some orders down at
Brown’s diner
If everybody’s gone country like Alan Jackson sings
Gonna move to Los Angeles and buy him a drum machine
He done gone funky, hangin' out with old Snoop
Doggy Dogg, sippin' on gin and juice
He done gone funky, duets with 2 Live Crew
He done gone funky
Uh! I feel good, hey!
He done gone funky
He done gone funky
He done gone funky
Fun-fun-fun-fun-fun-fun-fun-funky
He done gone funky
She done gone funky