Mr. Correct (Don't Tell Me What to Do)

Lifestyle stormtroopers
Want us all think alike
But you're stompin' on liberty
With all your idiot might
Won't drink a Coors bullet
But you love that Michelob
Meanwhile Anheuser-Busch
Is a-poisonin' your soul
Hey Mr. Correct
Don't tell me what to do
No matter how many rules you got
You're still gonna die a fool
With missionary zeal
You spit on the fur coats
But you wearin' a leather jacket
You eat cheese from a goat
Yeah, you march and you write
You vote and you scream
All you doin', buddy
Is scratchin' the big ugly machine
Oh, Mr. Correct
Don't tell me what to do
No matter how many rules you got, son
You're still gonna die a fool
Let the P.C. without sin
Cast the very first stone
But if you live in a glass house
You better leave me alone
Unless you a hermit
You're part of the problem, too, my friend
You've been sucked into the corporate deathfist
You own that Mercedes-Benz
Oh, Mr. Correct
Don't tell me what to do
No matter how many rules you got, buddy
You're still gonna die a fool
Fool, fool, fool, you a fool
Lyin' idiot
Bandwagon puppet
Well, you're dirt just like us
But you think you're above it
Nothin' but a prude
Afraid of sex and nudity
A vegetarian in Doc Martens
Is the king of stupidity
Mr. Correct
Don't tell me what to do (do that part again)
Oh, Mr. Correct
Don't tell me what to do
No matter how many rules you got
You're still gonna die a fool
No matter how many rules you got
You're still gonna die a fool
Hey, Mr. Correct
Hey, Mr. Correct
I'm talkin' to you
Oh, Mr. Correct
Hey, Ricki Lake
Hey, Ricki Lake
I bet you ride your bike to work every day
And live in a solar-powered house probably
Isn't that true, yeah, Ricki
You lyin' liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar