Lyrics:

If you want a linguistic adventure, go drinking with a Scotsman. 'Cause ya can't fucking understand him before. You land in Scotland and they're going, '[?] Oh, yeah. Sure. Oh, fuck sure, eh! Sure, you dumb fucking bastard. You realize how...'

You realize how drunk they get, they could wear a skirt and not care! And only they could invent a sport like golf.

'Here's my idea for a fucking sport: I knock a ball in a gopher hole.'
'Oh, you mean like pool?'
'Fuck off pool.'
'Not with a straight stick, with a little fucked up stick. I whack a ball, it goes in a gopher hole.'
'Oh, you mean like croquet?
'Fuck croquet! I'll put the hole hundreds of yards away. Oh, fuck of, yeah! Big fun! Ah yeah, that's great!'
'Oh, like a bowling thing?
'Fuck no! Not straight. I'll put shit in the way. Like trees and bushes and high grass, so you can lose you fucking ball. And go whacking away with a fucking tire iron. Whacking away, and each time you miss you feel like you're going to have a stroke. Fuck! That's what we'll call it: a stroke. 'Cause each time you miss you feel like you're gonna fucking die. Oh, this is the greatest part, oh, and here's the better part. Fuck, this is brilliant! Right near the end, I'll put a little flat piece with a little flag to give you fucking hope. But then I'll put a pool and a sandbox to fuck with your ball again. Ay, you'll be there cracking your ass, jerking away in the sand.'
'And you do this one time?
'Fuck no! 18 fucking times!'

That's my idea of a sport! The manly sport of golf, where you can dress like a pimp and no one will care. Where you could wear clothes where even a blind gay man would go: 'Oh, dear Christ! Those are loud. This is no carnival. What a fuck are you on?' Even the alligator's going: 'Asshole!'

It's such an exciting athletic sport, too: whack the ball, get in the cart, whack the ball, get in the cart.

And the commentary's electrifying. Just aside of curling for really getting me going.

'We're on the third green now. Could people be quieter, I'd like to hear the grass grow.' I want the guy who does Mexican soccer to do golf one time. 'The ball is rolling, the ball is going to the... Hole!' Just to see all those Washington motherfuckers going, 'Oh, dear Christ! My God, they're not gardening, they're playing now, oh, shit!' What the hell we gonna do?'

Because that was their last domain of dominance. It was their area. They were the king, up until Tiger! Yes! Son of a black man and a Thai woman; not even a German geneticist could've thought than one up! Black athletic ability, Buddhist concentration; ji-TOY. Crouching putter. And then he goes to the British Open, and he plays at St. Andrews, where they fucking invented the sport. And after the 4th round, he's 18 under par, and there's only 18 fucking holes. And all the old men going, 'Oh, my God, we're doomed! How did he learn to play? We wouldn't have let him join.' And they start having nightmares of golf carts going:

[BASS]
Yo, yo, yo, I'm playing through
Whether you're gentile or a Jew
Purple Beats, motherfucker!