With the cops your lips it's a holy routine If you'd stop your trips you could see what I mean I forgot not slip 'bout you're under 18 You had it in your hands
Leave it up to me It's known disease Keep it in your fleece Don't worry about the police, don't I'll tell you just good it can be, this lazy summer
But you got no relief from pain in your head And it's hollow and greased and it that you're dead But make fun and tease and the things that you said They always stab your back And been holding out for love ever since I had a heart