Whatsamatta with the carbs I'm cravin' ?
(Dontcha know they're so yesterday)
Dr. Atkins bought the farm at 50
( I bought into his plan anyway)
I'm a soldier in his diet revolution
Body's getting' faulty, gotta shake my carb pollution
Flap-jacks, sweet snacks,
Sugar Pops, Cracker Jacks
They're all flabbin' rolls on me!

Whatsamatta with my French fried cheese-its?
(lose the batter but the later's rad)
You can gorge yourself on Crisco, baby
(But the carbo in a Tic-Tac's bad)
Go and buy yourself a new kitchen blender
Puree up a lamb chop and don't forget the Splenda
'Fat Fest' digest
Warned me of starch pests
They're all flabbin' rolls on me!



~ bridge ~
We all know now that a sugga' is a boogga'
and that honey is a morsel sin
I can understand why figs'll make ya bigga'
but a tub o' lard'll keep me thin?
Screw 'Jenny C' ! Girl, I'm in!
Ohhhhhh!


Whatsamatta darlin', feelin' guilty?
Ain't that double Quarter Pounder done?
Keep on chowin' down your third burger baby
But you better not be scarfin' that bun
Atkins fans tend to be temperamental
There's no sugar high to counteract'em goin' mental
Deep fried suicide
Ms. Jekyll, Carbo-Hyde
Love handle's: R.I.P.

Psych doc's balkin' bout my low-carb diet
But my dress size is down to '3' !