Текст песни
"There's a bald little alien...
He vapes, he swears...
And he's got balls the size of Jupiter."
Crashin' in the desert with a flip and a grin
Middle finger up, let the weird begin
Lit like a rocket, high as the moon
Crackin' wise with a government goon
Comic nerds and a Bible freak
Ride or die in a four-seat geek machine
He's got no pants, but all the charm
And telepathic jokes that disarm
He's seen your gods, your myths, your fear
He prefers weed, nachos, and beer
Paul's balls!
Swingin' through the galaxy
Paul's balls!
Flashing cosmic anarchy
He don't need a ship, don't need a plan
Just a stoner's laugh and a middleman
Paul's balls!
Bouncin' like a UFO van!
He faked the moon landing no regrets
Lit a doobie with Boba Fett
Knows Spielberg by his first name
Wrote Close Encounters and rigged the game
Hunted by suits with a neural stick
He's too fast, too slick, too intergalactic
He healed a bird with a touch and a wink
Then smoked a joint the color of pink
"You can probe my mind...
But I'll probe your soul..."
And he drops the truth like it's rock 'n roll
NO GODS. NO MASTERS. JUST BALLS.
Roll it, light it, pass it down
Paul's the king of this redneck town
Vape clouds rise, the agents fall
Aliens got the biggest BALLS!
Paul's balls!
Unleashed and uncensored
Paul's balls!
On every government sensor
He's the truth they hide in files so deep
And he'll drop it all while you're half-asleep
Paul's balls!
First contact gets wild and weird!
"Tell your leaders...
Paul teabagged the Pentagon..."