Uh… somebody get me a Subway sandwich.
You’re gonna laugh, cry, and then you’re gonna cry-laugh, buddy.
Look,
I was feelin’ like a lazy man,
’til Netflix gave me eighty grand—
now they call me the Sand-man,
droppin’ flicks like water from a sprinkler can!
They said, “He can’t keep actin’ goofy forever.”
But I’ve been funny since the leather jacket era.
When I said, “Stop lookin’ at me, swan!” I meant business—
Now they see the box office digits and bear witness.
I’m a comedy phenomenon,
droppin’ bombs like Billy on the bus with the song on,
“Back to school,” drool on my rulebook, fool—
I graduated dumb, but I still run the pool, dude.
Happy Gilmore got a golf club swing,
“Price is wrong, Bob!”—watch the crowd go bing.
Ben Stiller in the home, yeah he know my wrath,
“Now you will go to sleep, or I will put you to sleep!”—math!
Waterboy tackled it, “You can do it!” chantin’ it,
Mama said I’m devilish, Vicky Vallencourt handle it.
H2O flow, got the hydro, bruh,
My medulla oblongata just signed for the cut!
Big Daddy, adoptin’ kids for clout,
“Wanna go to Hooters?”—yeah, I’m actin’ out.
I wipe up tears with McDonald’s napkin stacks,
“Frankenstein!”—where my Scuba Steve fans at?
I’m beginnin’ to feel like a Sandler God, Sandler God,
all these critics lookin’ salty, odd, salty, odd—
Now who thinks they’re funny enough to mock my job?
They all try, but they can’t out-job the Bob.
(You can do it!)
They say, “He just yells and wears gym shorts!”
But I’m still gettin’ paid in resort reports.
50 First Dates—memory short, but checks stay long,
“Peanut butter cups and eggs” in the beach day song.
Click remote, I’m slow-mo flexin’,
Fast-forward haters while I Netflix my blessin’.
Grown Ups call, I bring the squad back—
Kevin, Chris, Spade, and the James we stack!
That’s my Boy—nah, That’s my cash,
Blendin’ in with Barrymore, makin’ that splash.
Longest Yard with the gridiron stance,
Terry Crews yellin’, “Cheeseburger dance!”
Diamonds on deck like Uncut Gems,
Howie Ratner with adrenaline stems—
“I disagree!”—and I mean that raw,
Bet on Sandler, yeah, I’ll break your jaw (with jokes).
I’m beginnin’ to feel like a Sandler God, Sandler God,
movie marathon, six deep squad, deep squad—
If you ain’t quotin’ me, then odds are odd,
everybody got a laugh, but mine hit hard.
They wanna know if the Sandman still got bars,
I’m like “O’Doyle rules!” while I’m passin’ cars,
From Mr. Deeds to Spanglish scars,
Emotional range like Rain Over Me stars.
Hotel Transylvanian—Drac in charge,
Voicing bats, bringin’ laughs at large,
Hubie Halloween got the flask of starch,
“Hubie Dubois”—I protect this yard!
From Punch-Drunk Love to the Netflix spree,
Critics said flop, but the fans disagree.
They said my shtick was dumb TV,
Now I got Oscar talk from the A24 seat.
Still rock cargo shorts on the yacht I bought,
Still drop dad jokes that the haters caught,
Still got box scores that the charts can’t blot,
Still that guy yellin’ “Schabbadoo!” in the shot.
FatMax
