The First Black President (Part 2)

Lyrics

10 million freaks fills the sidewalks of the nation's capital. We're here on the steps of the Black House, formerly known as the White House. This is Howard Horsetell, welcoming you to Monday night Blackball, the blackballing of president Blowfly. We're going to switch you inside the Black House to our anchorman Walter Fuckeye. Well, I'm here just outside the office of president Blowfly, where he's probably inside at this vеry moment even as wе speak. Nervous, scared and just about to shit in his clothes. Let's listen in, shall we? - Hehehe-hahahahahahahahahahahaha...! Ooh, shit, Miss Click. You have the best pussy in the universe. - Mister President, sir. Have you fucked everyone in the universe? - Mmm, not quite. There's a bitch named Vanessa I haven't fucked yet. Holy shit, it's almost 1:15. Hurry, get up off your hands and knees and get dressed. You have to catch the daily double. - What about the fifth, Mr. President, sir? - The fifth? I asked you to bring a pint! - I'm talking about the fifth race, Mr. President, sir. - Oh, I'm sorry, let me see here... put me 10 grands on Your Ass. - My ass won't haul 10 grands, Mr. President, sir. - My Ass ran yesterday, I'm talking about Your Ass! - My ass runs every day, Mr. President. - I'm talking about "Your Ass", the horse, you dumb bitch. - I'm sorry, Mr. President, sir. MOMENTS LATER... Ladies and gentlemen, quiet please. You, with the joint, put it out. No sex in the auditorium. Ladies and gentlemen, members of the press: the first black president of the United States, Blowfly. (applause) - Thank you, thank you, thank you. Let's make this short and simple, and don't everybody try to talk at the same time. Uh, you over there in the corner? - Ah, yeah, Mr. President. Charles Dickhead here, New York Times. You gonna resign? - Are you gonna stop eating pussy? - I guess you ain't gonna resign. - Don't go askin' me some shit like that... uh, you fine bitch over there, in the corner? - Mr. President, I'm Miss AC/DC of the Washington Post. Mr. President, what do you think about prayer in school? - Well, they fuck in school, and they suck in school, and they sniff coke in school and smoke dope in school, so why not let the motherfuckers pray in school? - Well, I never. - I don't believe you have. Okay, uh, wait a minute, wait a minute. You, funny looking nigger over there in the back. - Yes, Mr. President. Chuck Cunharry here, Miami Herald. Are you having sexual intercourse with Miss Click? - Uh... I don't understand. - Oh, are you having anything physical with Miss Click? - Oh, "Physical" was a recording by Michael Jackson, wasn't it? - But Mr. President, are you fucking Miss Click? - Well, to tell you the truth, she's fucking me. As a matter of fact, she bitch-fucked me out of Mercedes-Benz, a Ferrari, two mink coats and a diamond ring already. Uh, next. Let me see, uh... damn, that white boy look familiar over there. You, you, you cracker over there, you next. Whatchu want? - Mr. President, sir. - Yes? - I'm Redneck Nick, Little Rock. - Thought I knew you. - Yeah, first off, you made us burn dildos instead of crosses, and then charged $10,000 a piece for the dildos. - I don't remember that shit. - Well, you did; and then you made us paint little white sheets black, and charged $1,000 a bucket for the paint. - I don't remember that shit either. - Well, you did; and then you made us change our leaders' names from the Grand Dragon to the Grand Faggot. So give me one motherfucking reason, why I should vote for you? - I'll do better than that, I'll give you three motherfucking reasons why you should vote for me. First of all, how would you like that 21-inch dildo buried up your ass while it's still burning? - Oh, well I, uh... - Second of all, how would you like those black sheets you and your motherfucking friends have been wearing, painted red with the blood from your asshole? - But uh, I- - And third of all, what you think would happen if the Grand Faggot found out what's been going on between you and Reuben Jackson? Mmm? - Uh, Mr. President, sir, I think I can promise all my Klan members are going to vote for you. - Thank you, that's better. MOMENTS LATER... - Mr. President, sir? - Yeah? - It's time for your speech. - Already? - Now, Mr. President, don't get them mixed up. - I won't get them mixed up. - The X-rated speech for your album is on Page 3. - Miss Click... - Mr. President. And the speech you're supposed to do here is on Page 7. - This is not the first motherfucking speech I have done. I know my shit, I don't get shit mixed up. Just go shop and do what the fuck you got to do. Let me see now, this X-rated speech is on page twel... the clean- the one- oh shit, I got them mixed up already. Oh well, I know what to do. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, catch a bitch by the toe. I do this one. MOMENTS LATER... Ladies and gentlemen, the ahem... "distinguished" president of the United States, Blowfly. Thank you, thank you. Last night, children, while lying in bed, while receiving some real fantastic head, I had a dream. It wasn't a wet motherfucking dream, but a dream. I had a dream that one day, the President of the United States could spend the night in the same room with Congress, and wouldn't have to worry about getting fucked up the ass! I tell you, I had a dream this evening. I had a dream that one day, the President of the United States and all his cabinet members would get a chance to fuck Miss America, like everybody else seem to be doing. I tell you, I had a dream this evening. I had a dream that one day, the members of The White House could fuck their secretaries, and then take them home to their old ladies and give them some of that good pussy. I tell you, I had a dream this evening, children. I had a dream! I had a dream! I had a dream! I tell you, I had a dream! I had a dream! I had a dream...!