ㅤ♥¸ ι couʟᴅ ʙe ʏᴏur ㅤ ʙɑʙʏ·ɢιrʟ ᴛᴏnιɢʜᴛ.
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ㅤ♥¸ ι couʟᴅ ʙe ʏᴏur ㅤ ʙɑʙʏ·ɢιrʟ ᴛᴏnιɢʜᴛ.
You taste like the 4th of July, malt liquor on your breath... My, my... I love you but I don’t know why— He had a cigarette with his number on it, he gave it over to me, “Do you want it?” I knew it was wrong, but I palmed it. I saved it, I waited, I called it. The liquor on your lips makes you dangerous.
I knew it was wrong, I’m beyond it. I tried to be strong, but I lost it.
He has a white corvette like I want it. A fire in his eyes, know, I saw it! He’s bleeding from his brain and his wallet. He’s sick and he’s taken, but honest... The liquor on his lips, I just can’t resist!
As close as I’ll get to the darkness, he tells me to shut up.
I got this!
I need you. I need you, babe!
Like I never needed anyone. You’re wrong, but you’re so much fun.
You say you treat ‘em mean to keep ‘em keen. You’re not that nice, but you taste like the 4th of July. Malt liquor on your breath, my, my...
You can be the boss, daddy.
You can be the boss. Bad to the bone, sick as a dog. You know that I like, like you a lot... Don’t let it stop!
