Ever since first grade September,
I've played the chewed-up ball.
From one desk to the other
I've shot one from them all.
but I ain't seen nothing like him
In any class or hall.
That third-grader math nerd
Sure shoots a mean spitball!

He sits like a vulture,
Becomes one with straws and wind.
Aiming for the teacher
Hits once, then again.
Surgical precision,
They stick and never fall.
That third-grader math nerd
Sure shoots a mean spitball!

He's a spitball wizard
There has to be a trick.
A spitball wizard's
Got such a pair of lips.

How do you think he does it?
I don't know!
What makes him so good?

Try to counter-spit him
He sees and dodges your glob,
He sees a way to dodge 'em
Covers you in blobs.
Always gets his target,
Don't get caught at all,
That third-grader math nerd
Sure shoots a mean spitball!

I thought I was
The straw-and-paper king.
But I just handed
My spitball crown to him.

There's a story about him
Proves that he's the best.
Nailed the same guy thirty times
And never left his desk.
He's got crazy lung endurance
Never caught at all.
That third-grader math nerd
Sure shoots a mean spitball!