A flood (Quelea, quelea) of blood to the heart (Quelea, quelea) A flood of blood to the heart Heat shimmer Open smother Ooh, dead in the middle of the C-O-double-M-O-N Little did I know then that the Mandela Boys Soon become Mandela Men Hips quiver

Stayin’ out all night, stayin’ out all night I had so much champagne up in the club And I ain’t come up here and I ain’t looking for love I’mma leave all my problems out on the floor I’mma drink so much that I can’t make it home So would you take me

I get high as the morning sky, this song I sing will never die I get low as a gravel road, in a thousand tongues my story's told Come on boys, you got to do it right Come on boys, I gotta tell you true, I'm a stranger here just like you Well, I'm alive

Deep greedy and Googling every corner Tralala, in your snatch fits pleasure, broom-shaped pleasure Dead in the middle of the C-O-double M-O-N Little did I know then that the Mandela Boys soon become Mandela Men Tall woman, pull the pylons down And wrap

When, my, time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her Boys workin' on empty Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby I'm so full of love I could barely eat

I don't think Waylon done it that way And if he was here he'd say "'hoss, neither did Hank" I ain't dogging what you're doing but boys, come on let's get real Get-ups, gimmicks One-hit wonders that don't stick Pretty boys, acting tough Boy bands give it

They made rules for fools, so get wise Where were you last night? Dear mummy, dear daddy, You had plans for me, I was your only son. And long before this baby boy could count to three, You knew just what he would become.

Then you do the milkshake Put your hands in the air Come on boys! Do the ice cream freeze strike your pose Shake it, shake it down low Do the snow cone slide left to right And we can party all night

Welcome my son, welcome to the machine So welcome to the machine Where have you been? It's alright we know where you've been You've been in the pipeline, filling in time Provided with toys and 'scouting for boys' You brought a guitar to punish your ma

Bad boys, bad boys Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do When they come for you You chuck it on that one You chuck it on this one You chuck it on your mother and You chuck it on your father You chuck it on your brother and You chuck it on your sister