Fitzy & Wippa’s “Cougars” – A parody of Blurred Lines.

 

Yes, as promised here is another parody from Fitzy and Wippa of Nova FM.  If you thought Blurred lines was bad…………lol!

Every cougar get up
Every cougar get up
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
Raaaw, raaaw, raaaw

Well they’re a rare breed of a certain lady
Well they’re a bit loud and a little shady
And they’ll be drinking Cosmos, they’ll end up totally blind
They’ll constantly pinch your behind

She wants to live her life without expectations
She’s been married once, now its co-habitation
She will destroy her liver
Hey, hey, hey
She’ll carve you up on Twitter
Hey, hey, hey
She laughs like Joan Rivers
And that is why we love our cougars
I know you want it
I know you’ve got it
Give me my wallet

 


You’re a cougar
You’re full of plastic
Your boobs elastic
That bra’s fantastic
You give off strong signs
I know you want it
You want you got it
Just please don’t vomit
And you’re a cougar
You praying Mantis
‘Cause once you have this
You’ll rip my head off (they’ll do that)
I have to ask the question
Have you got a skirt on?
Here’s an observation
You’re the oldest chick in this place
But are you married?
So where’s your hubby
Hey, hey, hey
What rhymes with adultery?

 


Hey, hey, hey
They don’t give a stuff, the queens of indiscretion
So much botox, they have no face expressions
You smile you’ll be persuaded
Hey, hey, hey
Say no you’ll be sedated
Hey, hey, hey
You’ll wake up procreating
Hey, hey, hey
And that is why we love our cougars
I know you want it
But you are older
Than Hayley’s Comet
You’re a cougar
Most make up I’ve seen
Looks like a figurine
Maybe it’s Maybelline
You give off strong signs
You signal text me
And you’re suggesting
You’ll bring your bestie
And you’re a cougar
The way you grab me
You think it’s flattering
It’s quite harassing (she’s all over you)

 

One thing that I ask of you
Any chance that I can see your tramp stamp tattoo
From Malibu’s to Blue Lagoons
You’re party rocking like the old Redfoo
Heads up, don’t misconstrue
But your boobs are falling out and they’re in full view
You tell me stories that are bearable
But the lipstick on your teeth is terrible
I pull you up and I ask you why
That picture of your son always make you cry?
You fall on the dance floor, you’re heading south
More extensions in your hair than James Packer’s house
You’re watchin’
You’re waitin’
It’s just sad you’re salivating
And that look tonight that you’re parading
Unfortunately went out with roller blading

Drop your drink, fall down, now get up,
Now adjust your skirt, unbutton your shirt
You’re a classy bird

 

 

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