Ramones — Dont Bust My Chops

[Verse 1] I'm sick and tired of you calling me names I'm sick and tired of your childish games I'm sick and tired of your bullshit brats Cocaine stupor and anxiety attacks Picked up the magazine, I see your face You're nothing boy, a goddamn waste With the lamest fashions on your back You're never happy, a hypochondriac [Chorus] Don't bust my chops, baby, don't bust my chops Yeah! [Verse 2] You're a styling queen and an alley cat Too many chocolates keep a fat man fat You're a pain in the ass, and your on the (loose) All I get from you is your bad attitude Dirty mouth, it's all I can bear Get out of here bitch, because you're nowhere Always wearing that cheap perfume Can always tell when you're in the room [Chorus] Don't bust my chops, baby, don't bust my chops Yeah! Don't bust my chops, baby, don't bust my chops Yeah! [Outro] Alright