(Bob Katz)


Verse 1

Sitting on the subway, all alone

Thinking of the fun I’ll have, when I get home

A man sat down and he was large

His booty almost moved me to the next car

A woman came in and sat abreast

I was thinking ‘which mango is the best’

Lost track of my bearings and when I looked up

I was caught between, ‘uh-oh!’, two big butts!


You been caught in a butt sandwich

Caught in a butt sandwich……A butt sandwich…..Butt sandwich


Verse 2

Now normally, I like me some tail

But these rumps was squeezing so tight, I can’t exhale

A woman cross the aisle started screaming in Spanish,

‘Dios mios it’s a Manwich in a butt sandwich!’


I was really embarrassed so I turned to the preacher

He said, ‘let Jesus, be your teacher’

I said, ‘he may be God’s son,

But he’d still be a burger in a hot-cross bun’



Can't move…….Can't breath……I'm never gonna be able to leave (2X)

Cause I'm caught!



Verse 3

So then the train comes around to my stop

I pull and I squeeze, and out I pop

Go flying (in)to the lap of a sexy man

I guess that’s what they mean, by God’s plan


You been caught in a butt sandwich

Caught in a butt sandwich…..A butt sandwich

A sandwich is a sandwich, but a Manwich is a meal

But now I got something real……..A butt sandwich (3X)

A butt sandwich (4X)



(Bob Katz)


Verse 1

You didn’t have no drunk ass teacher with the tenure.  You don’t have to like me I don’t care if I offend ya.

You didn’t have to keep your money in your socks, so you can get home when they threaten you with glocks.

You didn’t have to suck at Parsons Boulevard Station. You didn’t have to escape by faking mental retardation.

You didn’t have your friends all die from AIDS.  Don’t tell me no shit about “The Good Old Days”.


Verse 2

You didn’t have the sister with her life turned to wreckage. Referenced by Grandmaster Flash in “The Message”.

“They pushed that girl in front of the train.  Took her to the doctor, sewed her arm on again”

You didn’t hear about it on Channel Eleven.  That Skull and Crossbones, made an impression.

No one told me what was going on.  I followed it on TV, all alone.

Didn’t know if my sister was going to live!  And I was just a fucking kid!


You didn‘t have to go to school, the next day.  Everybody pointing “why he here,” like I had a say.

None of my teachers asked how I was doing.  All I got was “how come your grades aren’t improving?”

You didn’t get no threats from NBC’s Gabe Pressman.  An exclusive from my parents or he’d oppress them.

Media sharks feeding frenzy gone wild!  And all my father say to me is “how dare you smile!”

Motherfucker, I was still just a child!

So don’t push me cause I’m close to the edge.  And don’t tell me no shit about “The Good Old Days”



You come to New York, like 5 years ago.  Wall Street money, daddy’s credit card in tow.

Buying big apartments, the Gucci garments, you paying in cash, but without the installments.

Talk like you been here, from the beginning. “I miss the old Times Square; it was So Real!”

What the hell do you know!  All you doing is winning.  “We was kicking it, Old School!”

Sorry, I hate, to call you ridiculous. But just cause you read Patti Smith, don’t make you indigenous!

So you wanna know what, it was really like.  Wanna get a good whiff, of that garbage strike.

Let me take your ass back to them good old days!


Verse 3

You didn’t have to walk, in the middle of the street, to stay out of the latest, racial beef

You didn’t get made, to feel like a fool , when that lady from Yale say “we don’t take people from your school!”

You didn’t have the teacher with the gun to the head. You didn’t have the same textbooks Abe Lincoln read.

You didn’t have your arm broke by punks during recess; cause you a Short Fat Faggot Jew Boy, Caucasian Reject.


So there you have it.  There’s my dossier.  That fucks me up, till this day.

So just don’t tell me, it was only a phase.  And don’t tell me no shit, about “The Good Old Days”.

It’s like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder how I keep from goin’ under (repeat)

How could you say that?  I guess this is payback.  Fuck you world!




(Bob Katz)



Too many critics, not enough doers,  Too many shakers, not enough movers

Too many experts, not enough creators           

Gonna go crazy, with all of you haters

It's so easy to criticize.  It’s so hard to mobilize.  When will you realize….


Verse 1

Little girl post(s) a poem on Facebook

Troll say she look like she came from a spaceship

Everyone think it’s so damn funny

Little girl hang herself on Monday

Mean as shit cause you think you anonymous 

Jealousy for those who create is bottomless

Your bullshit opinions are so fucking monotonous

When there’s show called “Loser”, you’ll be eponymous




Verse 2

Bigshot Critic takes a playwriting class

Keeps panning us all with his verbal gas

When he bring in his work we give it THUMBS DOWN

That’s the last time we see Mr. Bigshot around

He can dish it out but he can’t take it

He can criticize art but he can’t make it

He’s a snake in the grass, and he can’t fake it

My will is strong and he can’t break it!




Bridge (sung)

You Facebook critics are so boring.  When you talk I can’t stop snoring

You are not prophetic.  You are just pathetic


Verse 3

Sitting in song group going over a piece

My feedback’s going on, it’s giving me no peace

So in love with my voice, say the same thing twice

Better shut the fuck up take my own advice

Cause artistic work is non-negotiable

It lives, it breathes, it's not disposable

This is the thing I’m trying to teach

But I better be sure to follow what I preach!





(Repeat 1st part of chorus then)

Stop reviewing, Start doing (4-5X)  START!




(Bob Katz)


Verse 1

“If you see something, say something”, the poster said

I see a man out cold, don’t know if he’s dead

Tell the cop standing there patrolling the subway

He says “cool your pits man, he’s nothing but a junkie”


Chorus (2X)

(So) If you see something say something (Muthafucka)

And we’ll laugh/smirk and we’ll do nothing

Cause we don’t give a shit, about your suffering

Let’s get these bullets pumping! (1st time)

Let’s get down, get this party bumping!  (2nd time)


Verse 2

A man yells “that woman jumped onto the tracks!”

There’s a train speeding toward her gonna flatten her ass

We beg and we plead for her to run

She stands there staring at us, but finally she come

We pull her up to the platform, out of the tracks

She acts like nothing happened; she’s totally whacked

I go up to the subway booth, give it a smack

The token man, seen it, just turns his back





Stop right there!

Why the fuck you blaming me

I’m not the savior of humanity

You give me these weapons, tell me to stop the terror

Now we’ve got a police state, you see the error

You knew this was coming, take that blanket off of your head

So why the hell you calling me, you made your own bed


Verse 3 

(Telephone Dial Tone noise)


There’s a donut on the floor with powder that looks like Anthrax. 


Say Something!


There’s this guy sitting across from me and he looks like a Mooslim.   You know, he's got a beard, and he’s wearing this really big winter coat.  Like I don’t know if he’s got a bomb in there or maybe he’s just really fat.  He’s also got his hair in this head dress thing and I think he may have a gun in there.


Do Nothing!

Crisis HotLine

My best friend’s fiancé just made a pass at me.  I believe he may be a terrorist.


Say Something!

My husband is wearing the ugliest pants I have ever seen.  Do you think he may have joined Al Quai Eeda?


Do Nothing!

There’s this big McDonald’s bag on the floor and I think there might be something in it.


Say Something!

Oh, actually it’s just Pizza Rat.


Do Nothing!

Yo, Pizza Rat!  What up?






(Bob Katz)


What is this System bout I keep hearing 

Blame it for everything, it don’t get wearying

When I can’t get a gig, lose the competition

 I say ‘Can’t resist em, you can’t beat the System…..Yeah yeah yeah

It’s the System.  You can't beat the System.’


And everyone nods their heads like they know what I’m talking bout

But I don’t even know what the hell I’m squawking bout

I’m saying folks with more money and power than me

Have banded together with their homophobic mentality

To deny my musical individuality

My brutalist venal theatricality

That seems to be my spe-ci-a-li-ty

Or maybe they just think I suck



'Hey can’t resist em, you can’t beat the System…. Yeah Yeah Yeah….

It’s the System.  You can't beat the System’.......


But what if it’s just my own paranoia

That tells me:

‘They’re afraid to employ ya

They try to avoid ya

They want to destroy ya’


And if every time I fail, I blame the system,

I guess that makes me the victim

Then I don’t have to do anything to improve my position

And I can sit on my ass and pretend I got wisdom




Well system or no system

I’m gonna get to work like I’m on a mission

Gonna hit you so hard, like Sonny Liston

Prince Charles’s gonna feel it, back in old Great Britain

And all of you haters goin’ straight to prison

Cause it’s my greatness you been missin’


But if I still can’t get a gig….





It’s the System

But hey, you missed ‘em (many X)

….and I’m still great  




(Bob Katz)

Verse 1

To all my friends and loved ones

I hope that you outlived me

And if I was a dick to you

I hope that you’ll forgive me.

I’m writing this stuff down now,

So I won’t be misquoted

You won’t have to guess what I was thinking

And this service won’t be bloated


This is my funeral song

You can play this when I'm gone

After that play “Ain’t Nobody”

From Rufus With Chaka Khan


Cast my ashes near a mango tree

Or throw them in the Berring Sea

Maybe if I’m lucky

I’ll wash up at Coney - Island

Verse 2

Please don’t say I was a saint

We all know I wasn’t

Please don’t say my spirit guides you,

We all know it doesn’t


If that mystic shit helps you out,

Well then it’s ok

But me I really liked to eat,

We’ve got a great buffet



Verse 3

When I tried to act hard-boiled

You all knew it was a pose

Instead it seemed my job in life

Was to emotionally expose


People called me sensitive

As if it was a curse

But I helped a lot of folks

You could do a whole lot worse




It was a blessing to feel so intensely

It was an honor to love so immensely

I never understood what you saw in me

But hey, who am I to disagree


Now go eat

Go eat! (2X)

It's Good!

Go eat! (2X)

It's Good!

Go eat!



(Bob Katz)


I was bopping along, down the main drag

A big juicy mango in my Gucci bag

Thought I heard someone come sneak up behind me

Pulled my mango pit shiv, case they try to malign me

Saw a nifty tag that was straight up gang

(It) said You want to make it to fifty?

Don’t mess with the mang


Now at first I didn’t think that that message was mine

A lot of guys out here that’s forty-nine

So I scooped up my mango, headed to my crib

Where me and twelve yummy mangos live

Then I saw another piece of fresh graff

If it wasn’t still wet, I’d probably just laugh

It said don’t be a fool, 

We coming for you


Now I’m not a man that gets easily creeped

But I have to confess that I totally freaked

I looked around, couldn’t see nothing

But just in case, I started running

A Maybach in the middle of the street,

A mango in the driver’s seat

Shows me that, he’s packing heat


From the way he was stone cold chillin’

I could tell that mango was the villain

He said they call me The Mangfather

But you can just call me Arthur

He grabbed my Gucci bag, took my mango

Rolled over me like he was doing the fandango


Then he used my bag to give me a whang

Turned to me and said with a twang, he was from Down South

Don’t mess with the mang


He said next time baby, do me a favor

I know you be liking that mango flavor

But if you value your life, take my advice,  Don’t mess with the mang

The mange is gonna get ya (3X).  Don’t mess with the mang

A mango in a Maybach, getting payback (3X).  Don’t mess with the mang

The Mangfather gonna get ya. (3X).  Don’t mess with the mang


That’s right baby,  Don’t mess with the mang




(Bob Katz)


Woody Guthrie was an Oakie                                                                     

Woody Guthrie was a folkie                                                                        

Woody Guthrie travelled all over this land said all’s not okey dokey

Is this land your land?                                                                                  

Is this land my land?                                                                         

"All you can write is what you see”, said Good Old Woody G.     


Woody Guthrie lost his mommy                                                                

Woody Guthrie was a commie                                                                   

His father was a member of the KKK                                                         

So Woody took his guitar, got the hell away,                                            

and played for everybody                                                                         


His guitar said “This machine kills fascists”                                      

They threatened him with forty lashes                                                       

But he stood for all the world to see,                                                         

That Good Old Woody G. (repeat)                             


(The Ghost of Woody Guthrie)

Hey you! 

That’s right faggot, you!  It’s the Ghost of Woody Guthrie.  Cut that folk shit out! Do you really think that after 50 years, I’m playing an acoustic guitar and doing the same damn thing.  Here’s what I’m up to now dumb ass!


I’m leaning on the cops with Black Lives Matter

Hacking the IRS like a young whipper snapper

Defending Planned Parenthood and Roe V Wade

Even though I’m dead and in my grave


I’m snatching that rug offa Trump’s big head

Occupying Wall Street with my waterbed

Don’t touch those refugees, I’ll get you with my dagger

Cause I’m Woody Guthrie I’m a gangsta rapper! (repeat)


I’m twerkin’ and tokin’ with Miley Cyrus

I’m hosting the Grammy’s cause I’m lookin’ so stylish

I’m on Instagram, I’m posting my selfies

I’m so hot, I’m doing a striptease


I’m taking all your guns and keeping um

Gonna redistribute some of your personal income

I’m a True Blue Socialist Bernie Backer

Cause I’m Woody Guthrie and I’m a gangsta rapper! (repeat)


When I died I thought this country was getting more equal

Now this place feels like a really bad sequel

What these Republicans are doing to the poor, should be illegal

You better be scared I’m about to get lethal


I ain’t playing no motha fucking peace songs

I’m blowing up tankers with Greenpeace bombs

I’m out on the prairie, fucking up frackers

Cause I’m Woody Guthrie I’m a gangsta rapper! (repeat)


Look for me in the punk club mosh pits

Look for me with the cyber-activists

Look for me in Tahrir Square

Look for me delivering free health care

Look for me in Zuccotti Park

Look for me in Ferguson, after dark


I’ll be there


Don’t blame that stupid Bob Katz for this song.  He just took dictation.  Say it again, Bob.


I’m Woody Guthrie I’m a gangsta rapper (4x)









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