Lyrics:

(ChinnChapman)So your old man went and called you a degenerate bumAnd you stood there crackin' on your cinnamon gunAnd your Ma was knockin' at your sister's brainsAnd you couldn't help thinkin' what she hoped to gainJust then that freak walked in the doorAnd knocked me to the floorYou said, hey man, you're on some kind of tripHe said, don't give me no lipJust turn it down, come on turn it downI can't take no more of that God awful soundSo for God's sake turn it downNow the suspicious minds of your learned friendsWill eat away at your kind 'til the music endsAnd the creep that taught you everything you knowWill hypocritically ask you what the hell you knowHe'll go out and mess around, then go home without a soundYou said, hey man, you're some kinda monkHe said, listen here you punkJust turn it down, come on turn it downI can't take no more of that God awful soundSo for God's sake turn it downTurn it down, just turn it downCome on turn it down, I said turn it downCome on turn it down, just turn it downI can't take no more of that God awful soundSo for God's sake turn it down