Gave birth to a fork, a string, and seven puppies
you wanted to believe I'm the one without the money.
I'm out of fashion and I'm running off the deep end
You ain't never met a boy like me.
We are
A painting with a fake moustache
We got
The energy to make it last
We are
Getting ass-fucked for the fucking cash
We got
No heart, substance
we're just a shell of fashion.
Party's over, get the fuck out of my house
I know I need this, I know I need this.