Fitz the Tiny Terror

Yo, let me tell you about a dog named Fitz. Yeah,

he's a little guy. Half Pomeranian, half Papillon. But don't let the size make you lie.

Nine pounds soaking wet, but his attitude's 110. Bites like a shark,

got a mean streak, you don't want to meet him. Groomer tried to brush his coat,

he showed his teeth real quick. Sank those canines in her hand, now he's on the

banned list. Sign on the door, no Fitz allowed, they ain't playing games.

He don't care, he's got a rep. Neighborhood knows his name. Pee on the couch,

pee on the rug, pee on the mailman's shoe. Barks at the wind, barks at the car,