Cosby, the spokesman, has a Jell-o pudding bowl
With a worn ad hype and a strutting pose
A few lies, played out his role
Cosby, the spokesman, with a flair for sale and sway
He displayed some Coke, with a skill to joke
But his fame was tripe display

Now busted for that baggage in that bold sick act unsound
With yen he laced drinks, so it’s said, he’d get on, advance, bed down

Cosby, the showman, on I Spy we would agree
He could shill for pay, make a gaffe in play
Trusted name, who could foresee

Cosby, with bold plan, maybe Hux or Scott would prey
While her head, it spun, as his staff was flung
Plowing forth in belle buffet
Bound for some spillage, with maroon wick in command
Drumming fear and scare all around his lair
Braying brashly Cliff da man

Alleged to pound, eighteen were found, who rued the graphic bop
And a moaning Cos did torment, as she stirred, he rolled on top

Humpety, hump, hump, bumpety, bump, bump, look at Fat Albert sow
Shtupety, shtup, shtup, pumpety, pump pump, after the pills do flow

Cosby, the showman, with a volley, scrappy scold
With a scorn job gripe and a cutting prose
And a guise, laid out his goal
Cosby, the showman, claims he’s blurry, in dismay
And he’ll rave, deny, sayin’ “Don’t you pry”
I’ve a knack for spin and prey.