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Song Parodies -> "Super-Rap-It-Fast Is This Shtik; Send Me Rapid Focus!"

Original Song Title:


Original Performer:

Mary Poppins Soundtrack

Parody Song Title:

"Super-Rap-It-Fast Is This Shtik; Send Me Rapid Focus!"

Parody Written by:

John A. Barry

The Lyrics

Anabolism requires energy to grow and build. Catabolism uses energy to break down.
Rue dirge: catabolic strictures; vexed screams, all that know it.
Best bend carefully or a wrenched knee—out you might blow it.
Muscle mass, so in the past, no más a chance to grow it.
Doom scourge: catabolic strictures; “Hexed!” scream all that know it.

Bummed just a little? Much! Bummed shriveled guy.
Bummed just a little bunch? Much-shriveled guy.

Time’s bleak: Anatomy is tweaked—ire’s piqued; you’re freakin’ mad!
You’re reeling, weak; you’ve breached your peak—sick situation’s sad.
Curse if un-nursed toe swerve occurs; slow-scurry’s how it goes;
You have to spurn fast acts or learn: You’re not fresh as a rose.


Move-hurt catabolic strictures extant; galled, you know it.
You are not strong as King Kong; to pretend so’s a faux bit.
Anabolism’s egressed; expressed pretense, best stow it.
Super anabolic briskness quelled, and well you know it.

Bummed just a little? Much! Bummed shrinking guy.
Bummed just a little bunch? Much-shrinking guy.

Energy bursts and spurts? Truth hurts: Your surging days are spent.
Don’t stint and sprint, you’re in a splint, ligaments: split and rent.
Trach’-intake marijuana to mitigate misery—
Might feel a mite mejor, but tummy’s maxed from junk munchies (food!).

Super-calorific vittles nibbled; you’ve, pig, blown it;
Stuffed too much lunch past your mug; down to gullet you’ve thrown it.
BMI number jumps up—gut-jut, putz, you must own it.
Super-calorific-vittles-spread feed. Paunch: big ’s grown it.

Yum, nibble-nibble much junk vittles: fries.
Yum, nibble-nibble much-loved vittles: pies.

Fast! Pass none—fast junk—past that tongue; belay binge at buffet;
Jerk, spurn the scourge of splurge; purge, urgin’ girth-burgeon at bay!
Turn catabolic—crotch-wrought frolic hurt burns like you’re knifed:
At night merge lightly with your girl turned nurses-yearning-rife.

Supine shacked-up sack-lust visits—inhibit or, oh sh*t!
You might twist, schism your wrist; if it rips, stitches sew it.
Breaking down is making ground. Like a rake pounding? Slow it!
Doomed are rapid-shagging itches. Sex spree? Pal, no-know it!

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Original Song: 
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Voting Results

Pacing: 4.7
How Funny: 4.7
Overall Rating: 4.7

Total Votes: 29

Voting Breakdown

The following represent how many people voted for each category.

    Pacing How Funny Overall Rating
 1   1
 2   1
 3   1
 4   0
 5   26

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