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Tim Wilson
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The Ballad of John Rocker (club version)
John Rocker, your proctologist called, They just found your head You've been awarded the Golden Rubber Glove, For that stupid crap you said You've got the loudest mouth in baseball, Nobody could shut you up So in New York, even in your street clothes, You probably oughta wear a cup
John, your off your rocker
Better, clean out that locker Or go out and throw about 22 perfect games Son, you've clinched a spot Next to Marge Schotte In the Dipshit Hall Of Fame John Rocker, Detective Furhman called Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com He knows how you feel And I bet you Congressman David Duke Would probably help with your appeal Maybe you won't get suspended Or have to pay that 20 grand But if you can't close for the Braves right now, You can start for the Ku Klux Klan
John, you're off your rocker Thank God you don't play soccer Cause you'd probably get killed in a riot in the stands If you do an interview again, Ted said he's bringin' in A gay right handed pitcher from Japan (preferrably mute)
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