Most people say their 'essence' lies deep in the mind
Shrouded in myst'ry, and hard to define
Hard to define? Not for this lass
My whole self worth's tied up in this ass

I got pristine buns, quite a tight set
Outrageously toned and a glistnin' with sweat
In this gluteal world, they're way off the chart—
Just one weird thing—they're so taut I can't fart

~

Can be tough when your "soul's" where the sun doesn't shine
While you're nurturin' yours, well I'm sittin' on mine
Had 'em hidden away for far too long
'Til a store clerk said, "Girl, heard of a thong?"

I got pristine buns, sleekest ones yet
Perky n' pumped from a Stairmaster set
Miss Somers might be known for her Master Thighs
But my butt's the one—won the Bun Nobel Prize

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Some models do hands, others face or their hair
But, very few got 'em a great derriere
Bestin' all rivals, fightin' cheek-to-cheek
So guess who's cover-girl on "J-Lo" next week?

I got pristine buns, like you never met
Particul'ly fine when they're oiled or wet
Mag-azines love 'em 'cause they make quite a splash
In those double-page spreads—all my ass-ets in 'flash'

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I dedicate my life to 'posterior art'
But the rest of the bod, well it's fallin' apart
New double chin and two boobs that sag
But my heiny's hot and I'm drivin' a Jag

I got pristine buns (yeah!), quite a tight set
Sculpted and honed to a fine silhouette
Don't ya' call me obsessive, girl I'm so much more—
I sold my soul—to the Buns of Steel® Corps!

~