women, women, women
Singer:watsky
talking to my cat like he's kinfolk
i sip a coke and i drink slow
i just need to meet a nympho
but i won't cause i'm more sensitive than my lymph nodes
after saying dumb shit like
like i hear your name every time the wind blows
i gave a chilly chick my jacket and my skin froze
and then she jacked it and just ran off with my thin clothes
i guess that shit makes her a heartbreaker in my windbreaker
i'm not tripping off the bimbos
i just think about the puns that i can spit later
she was just a hip shaker
and to answer the question that you implied in your eyes
i don't think that i'm smarter than a fifth grader
graduated to the next level and i hopped in my delorean
aurora borealis in my rearview
papa needs a new pair of huggies
in this life of hard knocks
i throw my enemies against the wall across the room like they were my alarm clock
car parked right on our block
arm wrapped around the card stock chick propped up in the passenger seat for a sweet one-way heart to heart talk
i think i'm ahead of my age like i'm dippin' dots
these women that i've dated really seem to think i'm odd-- strange
which is hard without a head on their shoulders like ichabod
what's a fourth word for girls?