An Acquired Taste lyrics

[woman shouting]

-Huh?

-Come on, Dave!

Your girl’s bubbling. She’s drunk as hell, buddy. Listen, sir, I don’t know what she’s saying, but just take my advice. Get some water in her, or you’re gonna have some dry pus*y when you get home. His di*k’s gonna be chafed the f*ck up tomorrow. Santa Maria. Who got a cigarette in here? Anyone got a cigarette I can borrow? Yeah. You, fella. Yeah, please.

Ohh! Let me see. This is a Marlboro menthol. This could’ve been anybody. If it was a Newport, I’d be like, “A black dude threw that up.” But a Marlboro menthol, that’s one of them riddles. Oh.

Is the word “pus*y” offensive?

[crowd] No!

All right, just checking, just checking. I asked that crowd when we was in Denver, “Is the word ‘pus*y’ offensive?” And the whole crowd said no, except for two people. One was a woman in the front, older than me, maybe around my age. Definitely a feminist. You know what I mean. Short haircut, plaid shirt. You know what I’m saying. And she didn’t say it offended her. What she said is, she said, “I am uncomfortable with that word.” And I was like, “Really? You?” And before I could ask her why, there was one guy in the balcony— I don’t think he was saying this to me, but he said this. Everybody heard him say it.

He goes, “It’s delicious.” I was like, “What?” I don’t think I’ve ever heard pus*y called delicious before in my life. Now, this is not to say that it’s bad. But it’s definitely an acquired taste. I don’t think any of us tasted pus*y our first time like… [smacking lips] “Mmm! It’s good!” It needs something.

You know, it’s illegal for a gynecologist to say the word “pus*y.” They can only say “vagina,” or they can name individual parts medically, but they can never say shorthand, even if the gynecologist is a woman. I feel like if it was a woman gynecologist, it’s cool. Like, “Am I all right?” She’s like, “Girl, that pus*y is…” [clicks tongue] She’d be like, “Yeah.”

I don’t think men should be allowed to be gynecologists. That sh*t is a conflict of interest. Even when my wife was pregnant, we used to go to a gynecologist… [chuckles] and he’d put her legs up in that stirrup like this. He’d be like, “All right, Mrs. Chappelle, just try to relax.” I’d push him. “Back up, motherf*cker! I got this. Just tell me what to look for.”

One of those homestyle checkups. There’s too many ethical questions when men do that. Like, can a gynecologist lose their license… for smelling their fingers during an exam? Is that illegal? How could they not? These are men.

It’s like if you have a good barbeque, you don’t even think about it. You just… The word “pus*y” is only offensive if you’re older. People my age and younger, I don’t think we even— We dance to that sh*t. That song comes on the radio:

" I beat the pus*y up"
That’s on the radio.

" I beat the pus*y up"

That’s a pretty harsh song. It’s nothing like a love song. There’s no tracks of his tears, no midnight trains to Georgia. This man simply beats the pus*y up. Unbelievable. You don’t even know if he’s having sex with these women. They might just pull their pants down. He’d be like, pow! “G-Unit!”

You’ll be watching HBO. “Hi, I’m Larry Merchant, standing here ringside with the pus*y after a devastating bout with 50 Cent. pus*y, come over here and let me talk to you for a second. My God, you look terrible. Your lips seem to be swollen. You’re bleeding a little bit. Tell me, pus*y, what happened inside of that ring with 50?” [panting] “I don’t know, Larry. I felt really good in the first round. I was ready to fight. I was warm and moist, and… I don’t know. He just hit me from angles I wasn’t expecting. Front, left. The backside surprised me the most.” “Well, pus*y, let’s take a look at round four. This is where it all went wrong for you. Here you come out of your corner, pus*y. You’re fighting really good. It looks like you got 50 with a right and a left, but then 50 slips you a jab. And there. There. Right there. You see that? He punches you right on that— that little bean thing you have on the top of your head. I don’t know what that is. There’s 50 just pounding away at that bean, over and over. Now, pus*y, tell me, what goes through a fighter’s mind when their bean gets rattled around like that?” “I don’t think I was thinking anything, Larry. I’m a real good defensive fighter. It’s real hard to get to me. I’ve never been punched directly on my bean before. As a matter of fact, most fighters don’t even know that bean exists. I guess he just hit me, then I lost control of my legs. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

I like when Lil Wayne talks about pus*y, because he’s— Remember Lil Wayne used to have that song? He say, “I got a b*tch that plays movies In my Jacuzzi”

Then he goes like this: “pus*y juicy”
That sh*t— That sh*t always makes me laugh. No guy says that. Only Lil Wayne says some sh*t like that. If you was f*cking a girl, and she’s like, “Is this pus*y good?” And you’re like, “Yeah, it’s juicy. It’s good.” The pus*y was juicy. That’s why I’m not Lil Wayne. ‘Cause if I was in a hot tub with a girl, and I could tell that the pus*y was juicy while I was in the hot tub, I’d probably get out of the tub. I’m a germophobe. I just picture Lil Wayne like… “What is this strange oil… floating in my hot tub water? It’s pus*y juice.” That sh*t was so funny to me, I must’ve wrote, like, no less than 40 jokes with the punch line “pus*y juice,” and all of them worked to some degree 100% of the time. I’ll do one more just so you believe me. Okay. All right. In this next piece, it’s a special episode of CSI. For some reason, Lil Wayne’s guest starring as the lead detective. Okay? That’s the setup. Are you ready? Here it goes. “Has anyone else been on this crime scene?” “No.” “It’s very strange. This place is virtually undisturbed. No forced entry. No sign of a struggle. Shine your flashlight right here. I just slipped in something. What is this? What is this? It glistens in the light. Smooth to the touch. This is pus*y juice. She must’ve been sitting Indian style.” Thirty-nine more where that came from.