Some... people say a gal is t*tties and buns
A writer's made outta' rhyming and puns
Sesquipe-dal-ianisms, long [1]
A pea-brain a-weak and a shell that's strong

Write three hundred songs, what do you get?
A ChuckyG scolding and Chia Fur Petâ„¢
St. Peter, don't ya call me, 'cause I can't go
I've blasphemed you twenty times, maybe more

I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine
I picked up a puter and I put down a line
I penned sixteen puns of asinine soul
And before I knew, I'd-a' reached my goal

Write three hundred songs, what do you get?
A red-hot sports car, but it's Barbie's Corvette
My readers: 50,000 or more page hits
But most of them: paro-dies about t*ts.

I wrote songs one mornin', readers sizzle in pain
Entendre-double is my fav'rite game
Always i-cononclastic, full of chutzpah and gall
Without discrimination; I offend them all!

Write three hundred songs, whaddya got?
A rep as conceited; an arrogant snot
St. Peter, dont'you call me, 'cause I can't go
Condemned, my soul; readers; place down below

Careful: read my punnin', whether funny or snide
A lotta' folks giggled; lotta' laughed till they died
One flipper's iron-...-y; other one, wit
Although some folks don't-a' "get" me, sometimes score a hit

Write three hundred songs, what do you get?
Some trollin' and flamin' and triple-1 set
St. Chucky, don't black-ball me; I barely crawl
But try my best: entertainin' 'em all

I was born one mornin' - 'scuse me, hatched from an egg
A cute girl walked by me, and I jumped on her leg
I jumped upon her leg, and crawled right on up
Tiny turtle gets first a-taste of schtup

Write three hundred songs, what do you get?
Another cold shoulder for doin' Ham-let
St. Chucky, don't you ban me, 'cause I can't go
I might write 'nother three hundred or more




[1] "Sesquipedalianism" -- literally (Latin) "something a foot and a half long", i. e. any very long word, like, say, "sesquipedalianism"