Sep Seven Game Show Theme

First of all, let me introduce you...
That's right, on the seven [x6]
Seven... [echoes off]

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The following program contains explicit lyrics and we, the producers, stand defiantly behind the views expressed in the following program.

Alright, all you players and player-haters! Once again, it's time for the Sep Sev Game Show! Recorded live right here in lovely, snowy Minnesota, this is the game where we make the average player a star!
Now, if you'll join me, let's give it up for the host of the Sep Sev Game Show, that's right, here he is! Mister Sep Sev!

([Talking in the background, behind Slug] Alright, he's talkin. Beyond, I want you and Ant to hold down the front and main entrances. Keep your eye on them security guards. Eyedea, you stay out here and keep the truck goin'. Yo, me and Gene Pool, we're gonna hit up all these Sep'd up fucks. Everybody, get ready. Drop the masks. Turn the safeties off. Here we go, you ready? One, Two, Three!)
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, fuck the money! Everyone on the floor, drop!
I want all the food in the bag, and I ain't tryin' to hear all that sore talk.
Stole the dinner and freaked it to the freeway
Flipped the screenplay and made every love scene a three-way
The soundtrack recorded here in Minnesnota
Tastes like ambrosia and disinfects pet odors
Yo, let's hold our breath and show your chest if you're proud of it
And wave me back to safety if you see me fallin' out a bit
Under a full moon, the color of my jism
You can see her in the distance, the image is vivid
And given the way the clouds moved, it fucked with the lighting
Grabbed me by the thoughts, pulled me tight like a kite string

Alright let's hear it for contestant number one. What's your name sir?
[Whoo yeah, look at me, whoo ha!] Yo, I'm MC Famous Killer
Ok, Mister Anus Driller. You wanna play the next round for a new Lexus with matching socks?
[Nah it's.. yo, nah I'm k... Oh my god!]
Or a earl of horny Miami Banks videos?
[Yo, oh a bunch of poor-ass bitches!]
Or do you just wanna take the foney lookin' fifty dollar bills and run with the money?
[Yo, yeah, yo! Hey, ooh, yo, check this out, yo, yo!] I want the sex, man, just gimme the chicks, man. Just, just let me touch 'em, man.

Now, what if I spent my whole take-home percent,
On gettin' bent, and now I cant afford my rent
Do I grab a crowbar to your back door? [back door]
Or hit up (?) America for the cash drawer? Pass forward
I should be honest, 'cause even my outer conscious knows
The odds of blowin' up are equal to people wakin' up from
Sleepin', keepin' me from retreatin', kingdoms at bedtime
Stories used to bore me with
Positioned in the orbit of
My imagination, small portion, if even that much
Flustered by the drug, fell in lust with the brush
Hush, maybe someone in it, I became acinic
But your sexy green gets less attractive by the minute
The planets in my head now rotate around the mind
The substance, the bug shit, all of my circumference
And I function like I don't give a fuck if you grasp it
Resent the bitch that don't and cast into the masses
I ask, 'Is that right?' I answer, 'Does it matter?'
I was glanced at and how you fancy the passion, bastard?
How fast you scaled the ladder to jump
I'd rather just flunk than gather the junk [Yo, dawg, we should blast that punk]

Alright, for this next round our contestant is gonna have to slam a whole bottle of expensive firewater, chase it with a forty of malt liquor, smoke a blunt, load a gun, and sell records to fourteen year olds all over the country.
[Yeah! Yeah! Yeah, I told ya'll I was good at this shit! Yo, yo, word, yeah that's good, yo, yo yeah.. yo...]
And the first one of you genocidal, fashion-fantasy punks to go platinum wins.
Wins what?
Mister Announcer, tell them what they'll win.
Well, they'll win respect! Lots and lots of props!