With the cops your lips it's a holy routine If you'd stop all your trips you could what I mean I forgot not to slip 'bout you're under 18 You had it your hands
Leave it to me It's a known disease Keep it in your Don't worry about the customs police, don't I'll you just how good it can be, this lazy summer
But got no relief from the pain in your head And it's and greased and it says that you're dead you 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