[Chorus]:
Come get your tickets to the gun show
Lotta love, lotta lights, lotta gun smoke
Don't run from the guns, though
Why watch 'em in the back when you can feel 'em in the front row?
And welcome to the spandex fest
Where no matter the question, the answer's "yes"
No denying this man is fresh
The guns go "bang" and the crowd goes deaf

(Spoken: "Hey, hey Playdough...yeah, I'm gonna be reading my Bible in the tanning booth, so if I miss a call, just tell them I'll hit 'em back, okay? Respect.")

[Heath]:
(oh)
Who wanna see daddy deadlift a pick up truck
With no hiccup, just a thick, ripped up bust
A fist rigged to crush the big bricks to dust
And victims to mush, a bit ridiculous
Ladies get weak when they see
Me on a steed in the breeze so free
Testosterone factory
The leather pants are better when they're tight enough to hear the pelvis shattering
I know you like the goods
I don't know why you wouldn't
'cause I've been chopping wood
but don't know where to put it
I'm a lumberjack crossed with a Thunder Cat
Swords of omens and light...fight the gun clap

[repeat chorus]

(Spoken: "Yo, Heath! I finally did it, dude! When I take my shirt off now, all the ladies are like, is that Playdough? Owww.")

[Playdough]:
Looked your name up
In the phone book
Nothing new, front pew, check it oh, look
It was thick and tricky, still lift it
And in the name of the Lord, I tore it and ripped it
A gospel gangsta speedo
Swolled-up libido
Crossed with T-Bone and Debo
A power team jumpsuit
Check it out one-two
Saturday Night Live
We will pump you up
With a six pack, gift wrap your hate-orade
Washboard belly, Captain Crunch the day-to-day
TX-in' flexin' boiled up
Get the Bandaids out 'cause your boy's cut

[repeat chorus]

[Playdough]: I got lotion and I got soul
[Heath]: Ultraviolet remote control
[Playdough]: Carbohydrates just say no
[Heath]: And yes to the bovine growth hormones
[Playdough]: Man, I'll pull a charter bus with my teeth
[Heath]: I will massage you after that feat
[Playdough]: I'll bench press...I'm not too comfortable with you rubbing my shoulders, bro.
[Heath]: Don't say that bro. Let's do this.
[Playdough]: No...it makes me feel like a weirdo
[Heath]: I don't care dude. I don't care. It's the 21st century. You should be a professional and gives these people what they paid for!
[Playdough]:Oh, bust it!

[repeat chorus]


Lyrics submitted by rkfanatic101, edited by fineanddandan

The Gun Show song meanings
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