Oh. My. God. Becky, look at her peace pipe. It’s just so smoky. She looks like one of those brave guy’s girlfriends. I mean, she’s just so…RED!

I like n8tive3 girls and I cannot lie, you other braves can’t deny that when a girl walks in with a leather dress and that red skin in your face you get SPRUNG! Wanna pull up tight ‘cause you noticed that skin was red. Even in the dress she’s wearing I’m hooked and I can’t stop staring. Oh, red chick, I wanna get wit-cha and take you to my wig wham. My tribesmen tried to warm me, but that skin you got makes me so horny. Ooh, Rumpleredskin, you say you wanna ride me horse? Well, use me, use me, ‘cause you ain’t that average potential child bearer. I see you dancing’, to hell with romancing. She’s sweat, wet, got it goin’ like a vat of pemmican. I’m tired of birch bark paper sayin’ white girls are the thing. Take an average red man and ask him that, she gotta pack much pemmican. So braves! Braves! Is your girlfriend on da rez? Hell yeah! Tell her to clean! Clean! Clean that dirty tepee! Baby got n8tiv3. Ba-by got n8tiv3.

I like ‘em small and red. And when I go to a pow wow, I just can’t help myself, I’m actin’ like a buffalo. Now hear my elders! -n8tiv3 chanting- I wanna getcha home and -n8tiv3 battle cry- I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout Métis ’cause French parts are made for baguettes. I want them red like buffalo blood, so find that fluffy buffalo. Hunt’s A Lot O’ Buffalo’s in trouble, beggin’ for a flask of that fire water. So, I’m lookin’ at a tribal dance watchin’ then white girls dancing’ like hoes. You can have dem white girls, I keep my women like Sacajawea. A word to Pocahontas, I wanna get wit-cha, I might cuss or hit-cha. But, I gotta be straight when I say I wanna -insert n8tiv3 battle cry here- ’til the braves come home, n8tiv3s got it goin’ on. An old Squaw won’t like this song. Some braves like to shoot with guns, but I’d rather use my bow. ’Cause I’m Chief and I’m red and I scalp the white man head. So, red chicks! Red chicks! Do you wanna bareback my appaloosa? Turn about, dance around, even white boys got to shout, “Baby got n8tiv3!” Baby got n8tiv3.

Yeah baby, when it comes to females, white man ain’t got nothing to do with my selection. Shoot an arrow like a brave? Only if I can watch…  

So, your girlfriend rolls a Clydesdale, playin’ stick games with Lafonda. But, Lafonda ain’t got a man in the back of her wig wham. My appaloosa don’t want none unless you got rez blood! You can kick it with Lafonda, but please don’t lose that pride. Some braves wanna beat the drums and tell you that the white is good. So, they get hookers and pay them and I pull up quick to get with the n8tiv3s. So, Stone Calf says you’re black, well I ain’t down with that. ’Cause your hair is braided and your skin is red. And I’m thinking’ about chicken. To the beat of the drums and the white man scalps, you ain’t litmus. Give me a red girl, can’t desist her. Bannock and corn didn’t miss her. Some shaman tried to diss ’cause his  daughters are on my list. He had a staff but her chose to hit them with it? So, I pull out quick to get wit ’em. So, n8tiv3s if the skin is red and you wanna potlatch, dial 1-800-HUNTS-A-LOT-O-BUFFALO and kick them nasty honkies. Baby got n8tiv3.  Baby got n8tiv3.

Livin’ on da rez and she got much Lysol. Livin’ on da rez and she got much Lysol. Livin’ on da rez and she got much Lysol. Livin’ on da rez and she got much Lysol. -whip sound-

Sir Hunts A Lot O' Buffalo, out.