Hang On To Your IQ

Chinese masseuse, comes between us Talks in haikus, plastic venus Got a headrush, in her pocket Two rubbers two lubes, and a silver rocket [Chorus] Hang on, hang on to your IQ, to your ID Hang on, hang on to your IQ, to your ID I'm lonely Every morning, my eyes will open wide I gotta get high, before I go outside Roll another, for breakfast Burning clouds around, and in my solar plexus [Chorus] Legs eleven, makes me stay up late Two fat ladies on my back, and now it's 88 I'm a fool, whose tool is small It's so miniscule, it's no tool at all [Chorus]