When I said you looked good baby I was thinking possibly or maybe We could head back to your crib Not where I live you see My situations quite sad I'm still living with my mom and my dad But really I'm going places Even though I'm seeing three of your faces Please, God, let's not resort to mini-mall parking spaces
Encounters with police, with my hands in the air Encounters with police Why ask if you don't care
I just had no idea that this would be lasting for just one single moment
I just have to say, you look so goddamn good I give you crazy mad props, because I know I should OK, I'm a bit intoxicated, but really I just graduated And from where my hands are situated Obviously, I'm growing more and more infatuated Just wait, please wait
We could be like onions and peppers In a sleeping bag fajita We could be anything you want The way you're busting out of that wife-beater And I know it's a bit uncomfortable here in this 2-door seater But you're just the right size, And I will always feed you and feed you and feed you
If you were driving next to me Say, on the LIE My eyes would become so engaged I'd float unconsciously Into the HOV Kill myself, the guy in front of me His inflatable passengers of one, two, or three
Compositor: Jarrod Evan Gorbel ECAD: Obra #1962069