Mixer At Delta Chi - Stephen Lynch

It’s college time again,

September’s almost here.

Hangin' with freshmen girls,

Frat party kegs of beer.

I see a girl I’m wantin',

Mixer at Delta Chi.

We take some oxycontin,

Dave Matthews gettin' high.

And then, as I undress her

And start my stimulus,

She says, «But wait… Professor,

This wasn’t on the syllabus!»

I’m the bad professor.

I’m the bad professor.

A tenured titty caresser,

I’m a bad, bad man.

Tutor her at my apartment,

Turns into a slow dance.

Hey, baby, what’s your minor?

Got your major in my pants!

I love her student body,

She wants a better grade,

I say if you roll over,

I’ll throw in financial aid!

I hope you’ve boned up for your midterm.

If you want, I can help you cram.

Don’t give a shit about the essay test,

So let’s skip it and get to the oral exam!

I’m a bad professor.

(That's a blow job reference.)

I’m a bad professor.

Your money’s on the dresser.

I’m a bad, bad… man.