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So you wanna come up on me |
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Chest out up on both feet |
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Puffed up, look down your nose |
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Attitude up on your tip toes |
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Hope you know how it's gonna be |
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Blood and knuckles out in the street |
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Come at me like a drunk in a bar |
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You must like the taste of road tar |
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Woah the end of you |
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Woah the end of you |
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I will kick your ass |
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You cryin' pussy |
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I will kick your ass |
|
You ****in' sally girl |
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Run home cry to mama |
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Don't come back here again |
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Go home and wash your skirt |
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And paint your nails |
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And face like you've been |
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I can't stand you |
|
Can't even look at you |
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Don't wanna hear you cry |
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I just can't deal with fragile little boys |
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I'd rather see you die |
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So you sneak up from behind |
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A cheap shot like |
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I was blind |
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You better make it the shot of the year |
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And when I get up don't you be here |
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There's no place you can hide |
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So you better keep runnin' |
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Dress up like the girl you are |
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And hide out in the ladies stall |
|
Run home cry to mama |
|
Don't come back here again |
|
Go home and wash your skirt |
|
And paint your nails |
|
And face like you've been |
|
I can't stand you |
|
Can't even look at you |
|
Don't wanna hear you cry |
|
I just can't deal with fragile little boys |
|
I'd rather see you die |
|
I will kick your ass |
|
You cryin' pussy |
|
I will kick your ass |
|
You ****in' sally girl |
|
Run home cry to mama |
|
Don't come back here again |
|
Go home and wash your skirt |
|
And paint your nails |
|
And face like you've been |
|
I can't stand you |
|
Can't even look at you |
|
Don't wanna hear you cry |
|
I just can't deal with fragile little boys |
|
I'd rather see you die |
