Making fun of music, one song at a time. Since the year 2000.
Check out the two amIright misheard lyrics books including one book devoted to misheard lyrics of the 1980s.
(Toggle Right Side Navigation)

Song Parodies -> "Looking At My Thighs{Clean Edit}"

Original Song Title:

"Look Into My Eyes{Clean Edit}"

Original Performer:

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony

Parody Song Title:

"Looking At My Thighs{Clean Edit}"

Parody Written by:

S.T.G.

The Lyrics

{I'm bloatin', bloatin'}
{I'm bloatin'}
These jeans are ruggish, always, always, and their tight as hell on my booty.
These jeans are ruggish, always, always, and their tight as hell on my
booty.{Stop!}
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.

Waddlin' through the door with my fat-butt,
My body's worst than a slut's.
Man, it's hard to get my clothing on.
I wear a 35-Double D.
Get in my brassiere,
But the jigga's all laugh loud.
Givin' my homies, the middle finger.
But I stumble, then fall to the ground.
My weight, you know it, is five hundred pounds.
And my fat just wobbles and wobbles, and it's always wobblin' around.
Got keep my balance under my shoulders,
Jojo gave me a chocolate fudge roll.
Bowel, load up on junk food, rolled up,
Now goin' to the can,Cuz' I'm throwin' up.
And I seen that prime steak was too much,
No luck, I'm still bloated.
All you skinnies work out,
And lard suction ain't cheap now.
Fell down, and hurt my gut,
Dinner time, get my TUMS, cuz' ya'll think I can hold it down.

Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.

It'sa regular day when the restaurants hate me.
But their food isa fading.
It's stuff in the gut my OLE' body, I'm so ready.
But do you believe that.
Stop that beefin'.
Cuz' I'm eatin'.
Gin to set it off from bloating.
Welcome to the party,
Where the no bone fried chicken's allowed.
Cuz' won't poison anybody.
But you eat like my dinner pal.
All the fat-boys say the same thing.
They back in day, where the Speedos were fittin'.
Cuz' evidently Weight Watchers programmed,
But now today the fat guys ain't listenin'.
Now stop looking at my thighs,
And look straight up right at my face.
Nine times out of ten you'll probably see me hungry.
An I'm hungry within.
**** 'em all if I can't get me some head.
But still I'll eat 'em out of biz.
I'm an ugly, ugly mess,
But nevertheless weight won't stress.

Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.

All I see in my hoister, is glob moister,
Eatin' all the most, I toast to all you thugs.
It be nothing but the grub, and Bud,
That we eat at our table,
And these eaters wanna test this grub.
It just tastes like mud.
It's not cool with the grubless,
And we're eatin' a sheep that's cloned.
Buffet food with the roughness,
And don't choke on the chicken bones.
We can eat it all.
And I'm referring to all y'all eaters,
Y'all know who y'all when you ate that,
Chowin' in the feast of 93,
Gut's hang down over tha' shirt, jigga', can you bite that. I know...
Everybody eats the roll with joe's,
All the pigs are foes,
But we've eaten.
God done blessed us with his potion,
Pure steak roastin',
Freely eaten, baby.
You don't wanna choke on Bones never.
Cut together,
My knife's too clever,
Eatin' through the nights of the roasting batter, remember.
Internal, it means bad digestion.
Number one assassin bashing.
Blastin' on all you eaters what I'm doin'.
All of the buffets gonna be rulin' trues, when he come.
We won't eatin', or throwin' up.

Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.

I've seen five hungry mutha's jigga's ready to bowl wherever I go,
Tutti Fruiti's that you don't wanna eat a chicken,
But I gotta chow down on mine--that's for sure.
Hear you out chowin' mine, and this won't rhyme.
But the food you got is all of mine,
And when I see you jigga, I
I'm goin' in your lunchbox double-time,
And it's like that,
You won't eat that.
It just needs some pap-pap.
Wanna chow like,
Wanna eat like?
Now, you know you can't eat that.
Why you clones wanna choke on bone chips, what you saps?
Everybody stuff 'em, ain't chowin' something.
Tryin' to make somethin' outta nuthin'.
Chuck it, it'sa peel cap.
Lyrically chow 'em down.
Bones put us in our place.
This diet's gonna bite,
Yes, it bites.
Yes, it bites.
Yes, it bites.
Yes, it bites.
Hey, stop looking at my thight, baby please,
Bet you see a real fat guy,
Chowin' at thebig buffet.

Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.
Looking at my thighs, on a diet, get rid of my booty, yessiree.

Your Vote & Comment Counts

The parody authors spend a lot of time writing parodies for the website and they appreciate feedback in the form of votes and comments. Please take some time to leave a comment below about this parody.

Place Your Vote

 LittleLots
Matches Pace of
Original Song: 
How Funny: 
Overall Score: 



In order for your vote to count, you need to hit the 'Place Your Vote' button.
 

Voting Results

 
Pacing: 2.8
How Funny: 2.4
Overall Rating: 2.6

Total Votes: 5

Voting Breakdown

The following represent how many people voted for each category.

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

User Comments

Comments are subject to review, and can be removed by the administration of the site at any time and for any reason.

The author of the parody has authorized comments, and wants YOUR feedback.

Link To This Page

The address of this page is: http://www.amiright.com/parody/90s/bonethugsnharmony0.shtml For help, see the examples of how to link to this page.

This is view # 1433