Texty: Wheatus. Wannabe Gangstar.

I am a wannabe; You better be careful around me; I come from far away, where mustang dreams are made; and we are fashioned in the image of the Don's who have come before us; we all kiss the rings of sand like our fathers told us.

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'Cause I'm a wannabe gangstar, better go back to Commack; I'm a wannabe gangstar, better go back to Commack; I'm a wannabe gangstar, better go back to Commack, better go back to far away.

Like a lemon pie a la mode, my nine is easy to load; all hail Jericho; Turnpike Teck, that's where I go to learn the things about the universe I'll need so I can build a stamped, 'cause I'm all up in your face again, I'm all up in your face.

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A wannabe gangstar, a victim of the chromosome prankster, I thanks ya, I sits back in my chair to contemplate my hair; OOH DAMN, I reak of cologne, but yo I'm lookin' snappy, I'm nappy, I'm crappy, got jimmy hats from pappy, so now I'm trigger happy, Girl did he just rhyme 'crappy' with 'happy'? Yeah, so you girlies wanna get wit this nit wit, got Cheese Whiz or not? Then I'm a hafta blow up ya mail box BIATCH! Or toilet paper ya front yard, show the cops my Suburbs Card, they gotta let me go cause they know that I'm hard, it's the deal it's for real, ya betta listen to what I'm tellin' ya . . . 'Cause I'm a wannabe gangstar.

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