High 5 (Rock The Catskills)

High five, high five... Come on, 8, everybody. Come on now, 7, 6, 5, huh. Gimme five, oh yeah, I like that shit. Gimme five, gimme five, no jive, gimme five. When I arrive like a high five, Or a slap in the face, I love the taste. All my days with my wheelchair ways, Watch me glide in my suicide high. I don't mean to cause a holy commotion, When I step to the room with a powerful motion. Leopard-skin, let the record spin Round and round with the speed of sound. High five, more dead than alive. Rockin' the plastic like a man from the Catskills. High five, more dead than alive. Rockin' the plastic like a man from the Catskills. Rocky mountain low, we got to go. Put that casket in a random mode. Purple candy, rocking the Tandy, Rhumba bloodshot, doing the foxtrot. In my car sweating like a dog, Beers and tears, new frontiers. On my way from the 'Frisco Bay, Dixieland, soda pop man. High five, more dead than alive. Rockin' the plastic like a man from the Catskills. High five, more dead than alive. Rockin' the plastic like a man from the Catskills. Yeah, put that machine in the Latin mode. Talkin' about poppin' tacos, back-back in the last century. Turn that shit off, man! What's wrong with you, man? Get the other record. Damn. High five, more dead than alive. Rockin' the plastic like a man from the Catskills. High five, more dead than alive. Rockin' the plastic like a man from the Catskills. High five, more dead than alive. Rockin' the plastic like a man from the Catskills. High five, more dead than alive. Rockin' the plastic like a man from the Catskills. Okay now, do you like designer jeans? Everybody say-say-say "ooh, la-la, Sassoon"! Come on, come on, come on, one more time. Let me hear you say "ooh, la-la, Sassoon". Now all the ladies, all the ladies say "Sergio Valente". Sing it, girl! Let me hear you say "Sergio Valente". Jordache, turn it out!