Just gypsyhook, Choking on that you rode. And it's taken his, in I abode. Where I slit the morse of my throat. Rotten to me, to me. Oh no.
Most of us can in the back of the seat, The last and go into my straight gets me clean. Well I heard the bird atop head, monk had cut my bed.
Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Oh woahh... to me. to me. to...
Just gypsy hook, on that dick you throat. In a world, parked in the back. Smoke on the we rode, Move to the of me, move to the back of me Bitch, shine my mode. Rotten to me, to me. Oh no.
Songs we sway to reminisce my face bottles thrown, And she your dick tic tac, hoes. Either we or you won't stop, wait. And you for the sake of all hearts, they wither, we shake. face is raising while between your legs. Our faces, and we close.
Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Ohhhh... to me to me Yeah... to me.
Rotten to me, to me. Rotten to me, to me. another gypsyhook, Trippin' on that you rode. But it's his, in which I abode. Where I the morse of my mothers throat. to m-m-m-me, oh no.
Either we or we won't stop, wait, And you wait for the of all hearts, they wither and shake. Your face is raising between your legs, Our and we. and we close.
Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Rotten to me, to me. nanananana. Oh woahh... to me. to me.