American Bitches lyrics - Bloodhound Gang

Raise your hand if you like American bitches

Locked in girl on girl kisses

Well, I do

You're just mad you can't score American bitches

So you're blowing up shit, which

Just goes to prove

That eighteen year old bombs are dynamite

Yes, eighteen year old bombs are dynamite

(What kind of a man sits Indian style?)

Camping with your bros, as your playoff beard grows

Ain't gonna get your whack ass laid

Camping with your bros, as your playoff beard grows

Ain't gonna get your whack ass laid

Trust me holmes, you would kill for American bitches

And the freedom of tits if

You only knew, who who

That eighteen year old bombs are dynamite

Yes, eighteen year old bombs are dynamite

(What kind of a man sits Indian style?)

Camping with your bros, as your playoff beard grows

Ain't gonna get your whack ass laid

Camping with your bros, as your playoff beard grows

Ain't gonna get your whack ass laid

Come to Infidelphia

And fall in love with the unholy

My boy knows this stripper that looks just like Angelina Jolie

Just

Don't bring up

What that club

You belong to does

Dungeons & Dragons

Camping with your bros, as your playoff beard grows

Ain't gonna get your whack ass laid

Camping with your bros, as your playoff beard grows

Ain't gonna get your whack ass laid

Where I come from bras are booby traps

And soft targets have a bikini wax

Where I come from bras are booby traps

And soft targets have a bikini wax

Where I come from bras are booby traps

And soft targets have a bikini wax

Where I come from bras are booby traps

And soft targets have a bikini wax