Mixer At Delta Chi

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.