He said he'd be here at seven
The clock just hit 7:22
It's too cold outside
To wait for my ride
Watching mamma try out a new doo (Bruins)
He said he'd be here at seven
But it just hit 7:35 (already?)
Here in Brockton, Mass.,
I got my thumb in my ass
Mamma's combing up a big beehive (Celtics)
Where the f*ck is he?
Where the f*ck is he?
The bitch doesn't even bother calling
Even though it's 7:44 (I fell asleep, pally)
I'm feeling kinda antsy
Mamma's getting fancy
Slicking back a wet pompadour (Red Sox)
He said he'd be here at seven
It's closing in on 8:01 (Trimmin' the 'stache, kid)
Me lookin' like a sap
In a wool knit cap
Mamma's next move is a bun (f*ckin' Patriots)
Where the f*ck is he? (My pants are still in the dryer, dude)
Where the f*ck is he? (I couldn't find my f*ckin' snowboots, pal)
I wish I had a car (Huge, huge hangover)
Oh, no (Massive hailstorm, massive hailstorm, massive)
That stupid little punk
He's probably f*ckin' drunk
I bet he drank a case
Want to pop him in the face right now
Mamma's eyebrow
Wicked good
Wicked good (Oh, GOD)
Wicked good
Wicked good (F*ck yeah)
Wicked good
Wicked good (Pisser?)
Well my friend is still a no-show
And I'm getting f*cking pissed (Why?)
'Cause I could've gone with Charlie
In the side of his Harley
Mamma's on the phone with a stylist (F*ck Charlie!)
So I guess I ain't going out tonight
'Cause the digits say 12:09 (Shit-faced)
But call the operator
'Cause one perm later
Mamma's hair sure do look fine (Heffenreffer!!!)
Where the f*ck is he? (Ah, ha ha! My stepfather was tellin' me a wicked funny joke!)
Where the f*ck is he? (Ah, ha ha! I forgot it though)
I wish I had a car
I wish I had a car (A cop pulled me over, buddy)
I wish I went with Charlie (5.2 blood level, state record)
I could have gone with Charlie (I'm in a wicked mess of trouble, ha ha!)
He gotta dee wee
He gotta dee wee
He gotta dee wee
He got a D.W.I.
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
Dee Wee (My Friend the Massive Idiot) Video (MV)
Performed By: Adam Sandler
Language: English
Length: 2:58
Written by: Adam R. Sandler, Allen S. Covert
Adam Sandler - Dee Wee (My Friend the Massive Idiot) Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
He said he'd be here at seven
The clock just hit 7:22
It's too cold outside
To wait for my ride
Watching mamma try out a new doo (Bruins)
He said he'd be here at seven
But it just hit 7:35 (already?)
Here in Brockton, Mass.,
I got my thumb in my ass
Mamma's combing up a big beehive (Celtics)
Where the f*ck is he?
Where the f*ck is he?
The bitch doesn't even bother calling
Even though it's 7:44 (I fell asleep, pally)
I'm feeling kinda antsy
Mamma's getting fancy
Slicking back a wet pompadour (Red Sox)
He said he'd be here at seven
It's closing in on 8:01 (Trimmin' the 'stache, kid)
Me lookin' like a sap
In a wool knit cap
Mamma's next move is a bun (f*ckin' Patriots)
Where the f*ck is he? (My pants are still in the dryer, dude)
Where the f*ck is he? (I couldn't find my f*ckin' snowboots, pal)
I wish I had a car (Huge, huge hangover)
Oh, no (Massive hailstorm, massive hailstorm, massive)
That stupid little punk
He's probably f*ckin' drunk
I bet he drank a case
Want to pop him in the face right now
Mamma's eyebrow
Wicked good
Wicked good (Oh, GOD)
Wicked good
Wicked good (F*ck yeah)
Wicked good
Wicked good (Pisser?)
Well my friend is still a no-show
And I'm getting f*cking pissed (Why?)
'Cause I could've gone with Charlie
In the side of his Harley
Mamma's on the phone with a stylist (F*ck Charlie!)
So I guess I ain't going out tonight
'Cause the digits say 12:09 (Shit-faced)
But call the operator
'Cause one perm later
Mamma's hair sure do look fine (Heffenreffer!!!)
Where the f*ck is he? (Ah, ha ha! My stepfather was tellin' me a wicked funny joke!)
Where the f*ck is he? (Ah, ha ha! I forgot it though)
I wish I had a car
I wish I had a car (A cop pulled me over, buddy)
I wish I went with Charlie (5.2 blood level, state record)
I could have gone with Charlie (I'm in a wicked mess of trouble, ha ha!)
He gotta dee wee
He gotta dee wee
He gotta dee wee
He got a D.W.I.
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
The clock just hit 7:22
It's too cold outside
To wait for my ride
Watching mamma try out a new doo (Bruins)
He said he'd be here at seven
But it just hit 7:35 (already?)
Here in Brockton, Mass.,
I got my thumb in my ass
Mamma's combing up a big beehive (Celtics)
Where the f*ck is he?
Where the f*ck is he?
The bitch doesn't even bother calling
Even though it's 7:44 (I fell asleep, pally)
I'm feeling kinda antsy
Mamma's getting fancy
Slicking back a wet pompadour (Red Sox)
He said he'd be here at seven
It's closing in on 8:01 (Trimmin' the 'stache, kid)
Me lookin' like a sap
In a wool knit cap
Mamma's next move is a bun (f*ckin' Patriots)
Where the f*ck is he? (My pants are still in the dryer, dude)
Where the f*ck is he? (I couldn't find my f*ckin' snowboots, pal)
I wish I had a car (Huge, huge hangover)
Oh, no (Massive hailstorm, massive hailstorm, massive)
That stupid little punk
He's probably f*ckin' drunk
I bet he drank a case
Want to pop him in the face right now
Mamma's eyebrow
Wicked good
Wicked good (Oh, GOD)
Wicked good
Wicked good (F*ck yeah)
Wicked good
Wicked good (Pisser?)
Well my friend is still a no-show
And I'm getting f*cking pissed (Why?)
'Cause I could've gone with Charlie
In the side of his Harley
Mamma's on the phone with a stylist (F*ck Charlie!)
So I guess I ain't going out tonight
'Cause the digits say 12:09 (Shit-faced)
But call the operator
'Cause one perm later
Mamma's hair sure do look fine (Heffenreffer!!!)
Where the f*ck is he? (Ah, ha ha! My stepfather was tellin' me a wicked funny joke!)
Where the f*ck is he? (Ah, ha ha! I forgot it though)
I wish I had a car
I wish I had a car (A cop pulled me over, buddy)
I wish I went with Charlie (5.2 blood level, state record)
I could have gone with Charlie (I'm in a wicked mess of trouble, ha ha!)
He gotta dee wee
He gotta dee wee
He gotta dee wee
He got a D.W.I.
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
(Up the river)
Writer: Adam R. Sandler, Allen S. Covert
Copyright: Lyrics © Word Collections Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Word Collections Publishing