Just
I met with a sickly clutch.
She got me.
Oh, she got me.
She got me.
With a sack of butt.
All
of the * that you had on my lips.
They know you said asking much.
She got me.
Oh, she got me.
With a sack of sack of sack of.
Why you suck up?
One, two, three, four.
Why I see a face in a million stars I'm wondering.
Thought I had good days,
till I found I'm none at all.
Nailed each and every year,
as the * of the year.
And then she's right.
And then I'm back.
The guy I've been before the idiot said it.
Can't believe how long it took to get
a bloody apple to the elite pieces.
And then some Mr. Michael Gittu had me lose for a sin.
He learned about my life.
She's one of the guy.
I made bitches out to love.
She got me.
Oh, she got me.
She got me.
With a sack of butts.