Scene: Columbia, MO, 9:38 a.m. Monday, December 1st. Gary Pinkel works in his office, signing requisitions and making phone calls.

[BEEEEP!!!!]

Voice from speaker: It’s your wife on line three, Coach Pinkel. I’m patching her through.

Pinkel: Tell her I’m busy right now. I can’t look at carpet samples.

Voice from speaker: She’s insisting. I’m not making an enemy of her, Coach. Here she is.

Pinkel: Dammit, don’t–

Mrs. Pinkel: The berber just doesn’t work for me. The texture on my feet kind of hurts my teeth when I walk on it, you know? Gary? Are you even listening to me?

Pinkel: Baby, we just lost to Kansas. I know the contract extension was nice, but I can’t really think about spending it when we just lost to–

[A GREAT RUMBLING OF BASS AND MUCH SHAKING]…

Marky M: YeaaaAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Pinkel: Dammit, we just had that wall repaired, Mark.

Marky M:

Fuck right you had it fixed
Now you fix it again
Marky M bust you up
Like my name John McLane

Die hard on them streets
Caught up in the game
Too big for your pants
Too big for your frame

Fuck you bitch and clique you claim
Jayhawk ’till we die, cause we feel no shame
Keep it bouncin’ in the wheatfields tractor-style
Got you Pantera’d cause we—

[sample: FUCKING HOS-TIIIIIIIIIIILE!!!] (echoes)

Tell Chase Daniel it was nice to meet ya
Now I’d like seven orders of breadsticks to go with my pizzas
Tell him that it was oh so nice to defeat ya
And show you how we do like it’s Srebenica

Get a fat contract
From your bitch-ass peeps
You call that real cash?
You call that real cheese?

Velvet fog take you money
And he tip the bartender
Order fifty gallons of that ‘yak
And return it to sender

I make that much in a week
Growin’ bread in my folds
Marky M got ciabatta
Got them swiss cake rolls

Enough to feed the needy
You bet you coochie, sweety
Have a feast off my ass
Like we doin’ naked sushi

markym_tub2.jpg

Hit the hot tub rollin, yeah we fillin it up
Hit that hot tub chillin’ cause we tippin’ it up
Get them M paws workin in them fat D-cupz
Cause when the kitty comes meowin’ Marky’s feedin’ it up

Have the whole thing sloshin’
Like we on Splash Mountain
Got the M Pipe spurtin’
Like the Trevi fountain

If you into doing cake
Then I got the red velvet
If you into gettin’ head
Got it like I’m Dark Helmet

Bitchmade Pinkel, you crew keep it so weak
Got Jayhawk buried nine inches deep
Got my man Kerry Meier hauntin’ your sleep
Pimped you out on the corner and we pimped you cheap

marky m limo.jpg

Yeah we stuck in this sunroof
Been stuck for three days
Not sweatin regrettin,
Still got that purple haze

Hit the drive thru like a pimp do
Apply the SPF so the M don’t get barbecued

You think that Mizzou’s got you on that gravy train
Fuck that, Marky M’s got that gravy plane
He got gravy fleet a yachts with them gravy names
Got the gravy boat bouncin’ in this gravy game

GRAVY BOMBS!

WHAAAAAT!!!!!

YEAAAAAHHHHH, Marky M on this shit.

Rock Chalk, bitch. Take your contract and wipe yo ass with it, Pinkel.

Can’t spell Don Killuminati without KU.

Cinnabon, I see you. Keep it frosty.

Ron Prince, call a lawya! I got some recruiting letters needs some stamps ha HA!

We Marky M, hittin’ em up. Gravy bombs to the haters.

WE OUT. (Throws down mike.)

Gary Pinkel: Someone get in here and clean this up.