I fiddle with my chode, as she tries to climb me
I lay in the middle of bed with my pants behind me
Well I got a smile for every girl I meet
As long as she won't try grabbing today
Or dropping the bomb on my sheets

Now come on baby
Pull on my chode
Oh come on now
Try to fiddle with my chode, yeah

When she fiddles with your chode, you say the darndest things
Like "Oh my, that hurts! Don't you have any pity?"
Using vibrating things on poop shoots
Ass ventilated thin slacks strung up with strings
Oh girl, I might need invasive surgery
When you bruise a big chunk of a bloody third leg
The bandages come with the scenery

Oh come on baby
Release my chode
Oh come on now
Don't ya fiddle with my chode, yeah

One... two... three.... four

I fiddle with my chode; and my private comes with sack
I can't get from her lap to her curves
Without some little crick in my back
She'll her-ass me, can't you tell?
When I got home, was tired as hell
It's not her that I really need
She's like a kid who's twenty-three

Baby, pull on my chode
Come on now
Try to fiddle with my chode, yeah