Crap lyrics

I met a skinhead named Scrap.
He lived in my friends garage.
Every day he`s shakin` that spray paint can.
And he comes out seein` stars.

Grab a paper bag like an oxygen mask.
Until your mind starts to gel
`Cause the ball in the can has a crazy beat
The funky dying brain cell.

So he met some Christians from hell
Said,
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