When the Lord dips us in the gene pool
We get more than Granny's green eyes
We get our Mama's warmth
Our Daddy's cool
And that thang between our thighs
And that's the start of all these troubles
In our sordid lives
Ain't it a b**h sortin' out our sordid lives?
It's a b**h when you come to realize
Crack yourself a box of Cracker Jack
You could get a really sh**ty prize
It's a b**h sortin' out our sorry little sordid lives