Since the beginning of time I've been able to rhyme,
The kids never gave me trouble, they could never burst my bubble.
I was growing stubble at the age of five,
An individual feature, it'd impress the lady teachers.
But the principal never saw the funny side.
He would send me home all alone, with my Mum working at the foam company,
There'd never be anyone around to comfort me.
I see... the me... I tried... to fly... but why... do I...
Rely on an itty-bitty blanket?
I'll cry... if you... refuse... to use...
A little bit of cla**, my arse is on the line here.
I'm confessing a line, I'll confide,
I'd never be the man I am without the love my woobie provides.
Come on!
Not without...
Not without...
Not without...
My Woobie
Not without...
Not without...
Not without...
My Woobie
Not without...
Not without...
Not without...
It's a blanket which is discoloured on account of saliva.
As I stand in a court of law, awaiting my sentence for all the things that I did,
Poisoning all the kids' minds, and pretending to k** my wife Kim,
And befriending Sir Elton John.
I'm sorry for that, I'm sorry for that.
I won't apologise for k**ing a cat, or drowning a bat, but I'm sorry for that.
I hope God's not a f*ggot.
And will the members of the jury please stand up?
I'm going to enter my plea, 'cause I'm guilty.
And I'd do it again, but when you put me away today,
I hope and I pray I can sway y'all.
Don't fai-oll me, let me take my woobie into jai-oll.
Not without...
Not without...
Not without...
My Woobie
Not without...
Not without...
Not without...
My Woobie
Not without...
Not without...
Not without...
Dynamite, you should thank me,
'Cause I'm slim, never skanky.
Laughing all the way to the bank-y,
It's just me and my blankie.
Dynamite, you should thank me,
'Cause I'm slim, never skanky.
Laughing all the way to the bank-y,
It's just me and my blankie.
Yo, and when I'm in the ground, and when I'm in the ground,
And my rappin' is over and I'm heavenly-bound.
And if I go supernova I'll be up in the clouds,
The shroud I burned out, but I'm proud,
'Cause I was too loud for you, and I was head of the crowd.
St. Peter, what a treat-a, nice to meet'cha, nice white sheet-a.
Won't you lead the way through the heavenly gate?
But wait...
Not without...
Not without...
Not without...
My Woobie
Not without...
Not without...
That's Egg Carton playing the guitar y'all
Not without...
My Woobie
Not without...
Not without...
Not without...
Dynamite, you should thank me,
'Cause I'm slim, never skanky.
Laughing all the way to the bank-y,
It's just me and my blankie.