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Fleet Week EP (​+​Extra Tracks and Live at 924 Gilman St​!​)

by Chumpslap

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1.
Smack Hunt 01:22
I'm not waiting for my man I'm going to the source I got a better plan Gonna kill him steal his horse Do it tonight And tomorrow I'll gloat I'll be feeling alright He'll be clutching at the gash that was his throat Cuz I'm going on a smack hunt And I'm gonna get what I want Going on a soak hunt tonight Going on a smack hunt And I better get what I want Going on a smack hunt tonight, alright King of the block And man of the week Till I cut off his cock And made him feel meek Took his whole stash It went straight to my vein Took all his cash And spent it on more smack and Night Train
2.
Macho 01:51
We're hitting all the liquor stores all the way to Mexico And shooting up the jockeys at Unocal and Texaco Cuz it's a high rolling weekend, we'll have lots of fun Just bring lots of booze and bring a big gun Just like in the movies, just like on TV Mow them fuckers down, ignoring their pleas If you're feeling down just take some more cocaine It's like the Great Train Robbery, without the Train There's no cops around, knock 'em back and shoot 'em down Don't let them make a sound, put them six feet underground Dropping lead by the pound, leave them in a fleshy mound Shot, stabbed and sometimes drowned, sometimes burnt black and brown
3.
My eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord He's mad about his kid and he's sick of being whored And if you're really really good a quick death is your reward Hi truth is marching on (Traditional) So you broke the eagle's neck and you kicked Sam in the bag And you raped Lady Liberty and knifed the fucking hag And there's a line around the block just to burn your fucking flag His truth is marching on (Traditional) They inherited your ass, so blessed are the meek It's their God-given right to drop their load between your cheeks As the rivulets of cum run down your legs like milky creeks His truth is marching on
4.
Chef Love 02:07
You laugh at my French fanfare But I never really care If you only knew Your Soup DuJour is filled with my spew In the kitchen cooking something In the kitchen cooking something In the kitchen cooking something In the kitchen cooking something up with love 'Cause I'm the type of guy who always gets the last laugh I'm the type of guy who jizzes in your half & half Use a fist full of pubic hair to season the special dinner plate I got a secret recipe call Creme de la Masturbate It's the white sauce on your steak It's the cream in your milkshake It's scrambled in your eggs I've even fucked your turkey leg
5.
Gonorrhea 01:39
So you lived a virgin all your life, first girl you nailed ended up your wife You fell into a marriage trap and then she left you —with the clap You don't know why it hurt to pee, you always thought "it won't happen to me" But now your face is torn and wracked, as the doctor scrapes your urinary tract Gono—Gonorrhea Or you're in a stupor at the bar, your drunken legs won't take you far All you wanted was a ride home, but you ended up giving her the bone Like a trapped coyote you awoke, or the victim of some cruel joke Ran away to leave it all behind you, but she left you something to remind you Gono—Gonorrhea She left you with nothing but VD, yea Or you met the man of all your dreams, he a starter on the football team He's nice, sincere, and really cute and into you his load will shoot He'll pick you up in his manly arms, and pick you up with his manly charms But if you knew the truth your blood would freeze, he's given you his manly disease Gono—Gonorrhea He left you with nothing but VD, yea
6.
PPPPSMB 01:34
Martyrdom, you sure are dumb Your mouth moves like you're chewing gum Got a lot to say, say it every day You're a cow with a cud of pre-chewed hay Tired tirade, your game's been played Like a moral moron panty-raid Like your counterparts, you're not that smart And I really don't think you have a heart Maybe I just don't get it Maybe I just don't care In Berlin '39 you'd be a Nazi Suck my balls, you PC paparazzi An image to wear doesn't mean you care America's nightmare isn't spiked hair You're a slat in the fence, a target audience If you opened your eyes it would all make sense Like a high school clique, you make me sick You're a captain with a team to pick Your yawning maw, your jabber jaw Well after I'm through you'll eat with a straw
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Music & Lyrics: Seth Justman
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about

Originally released as a 33-1/3 7" vinyl EP in 1995.
✓ = Extra Studio Track
Mastered and re-released in 2020 with all outtakes and live recordings from 1995.

credits

released December 1, 1995

Recorded summer of 1995 by Bart Thurbor at House of Faith, Oakland CA.

Mastered Spring 2020 at Lincoln's Tomb.

Live tracks recorded Halloween 1995 at 924 Gilman St., Berkeley, CA.

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about

Chumpslap Castro Valley, California

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