Take your parents credit cards
   Buy a bunch of crap that you don?t need
   And will never ever use
   Your mom and dad are out of town
   And they trust you implicitly
   A rubber chicken for the mail man
   Is on your horizon
  
   And there is nothing
   That I?d rather do
   And there is nothing
   That I'd rather do
  
   Your sugar daddy?s turning 50
   He shops for you indiscreetly
   A fashion show
   In his penthouse and black silk kimono
   Step out into your short shorts
   Put out as often as you need to
   To make his summer #1
  
   And there is nothing
   That I'd rather do
   And there is nothing
   That I'd rather do