Birth - Day - Time However many years ago this day, You popped out of the womb, said “hey!” Pissed on the doctor, shit on the nurse, Told everyone, “it’s the day of my birth!” Now you’re older, lovin’ life, Cuttin’ that cake with a birthday knife. Presents and stuff, in your hand, Tryinna make people all understand that, Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, It’s my birthday; Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, It’s my birthday. Feelin’ all special, you can’t fail, Texting, facebook, cards in the mail. Parties, parties, talkin to boys, Playin’ with all of your birthday toys. Haters can’t hate on you today, No one better have nothin’ bad to say. It’s all about you, so don’t deny, sing along, lemme hear you say “it’s my,” Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, It’s my birthday; Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, It’s my birthday. Phones, boys, jack, shots, gloves, purse, nails, more shots, clothes, gin, rocks, mall, cash, benz, queen-size bed, car, shoes, ring, heels, birthday, boy, cake, shots, plates, dress, shoes, lamp, drugs, thong , sex ---- kick it, Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, It’s my birthday; Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, It’s my birthday.

I love Thursday nights, and shrimp cocktail You appreciate a nice pale ale I grew up in LA; you on a farm You have curly hair; I have one arm Baby take a seat on my right side, You’re lookin’ at me like I’m Mr Hyde. I get this a lot, you’re not the first, But if you leave now then you’re the worst. Month of messages on OkCupid; Now you’re looking at me like you think I’m stupid. Hate the way I have to see my dates react, Brains don’t come from the arm, that’s fact. Maybe I don’t like your double chin, Your photos made you look 20 pounds more thin. I’m not complaining, I’ll give it a chance, And you should too, just wait till we dance. Yea, my picture is a shot of my face, It’s just I don’t want to be a charity case. Let’s have this date, it won’t do you harm, Just try not to dwell on my solo arm. I can salsa dance, and play it cool. You love feather pens, and once rode a mule. I have big biceps, you're small and lean. You have hazel eyes, my whole face is green. Here we go, here we go, here we go again, We’re meeting in real life and I’ve got to explain. That although my body’s tan and my abs are pristine, I neglected to inform you my entire head is green. I don’t want to be viewed as deceptive or a liar, But there’s a reason all my pictures stop and don’t go higher Than my chest or my arms or my upper back; It’s kinda like how you don’t have a photo of your rack. Girl I ain’t no fairy, I’m just a shade of tertiary. You peach bitch. Take me as I am, I’ll treat you right. Hold your body close all through the night. Its easier to cuddle, (I’ll be cast in Wicked) I promise you. I don’t have to deal with that arm issue. I guess you’ll have to deal with my race issue. Every guy complains about that arm issue. But you won’t hear me complain about that race issue. But you won’t hear me complain about that arm issue.

A voicemail from Matt is better.