Testo No Garlic

The Mayor moved out to the suburbsThat's where his true heart liesAnd everyone who lives here hates you nowWe see the sideways glancesTongues stuck out at right anglesAt tastes they can't stand anymoreCHORUS:No garlicNo spiceNo seasoning for your bland ideasMayo on white breadIn a pink ziploc bagWhat pressureWhat viceWhat force took out your flavor?What made you hateThe flavor that made you?The allergy you harborThat helps you keep at bayThe spice rack containedFrom Boogie-Down to RockawayThe affliction on your noseThat makes our sweet smell seem a reekStill can not hide the simple factOur day beats your weekTrade your tang for a strip mallYour secret recipe for a lawnSomeone will always be glad to take your spot in the melting potDon't worry about any damageTo the clean white shell you've madeThere's nothing worthwhile inside to destroyCHORUS: