What an idol, the mount is in front of him, he holds his microphone
The sweety is shivering, the pant was dropped to the corner long ago
She is a good girl, nothing is missing, come and give me a hug
Her saliva is hot, I'm her type, altough she is a bastard mixture
The door is open, the engine reached the maximum rev in me
I tell you the place, but this time go to somewhere else instead of the last one for it
Then bring the stuff here, but deal it in a good way, let me not smoke the garbage
I cover my mouth, just tell me the number and call me at an other time
Don't worry, the cake will be spiced
Just let us have enough grass for it
I would tell you anything else in vain
What an idol, the mount is in front of him, he holds his microphone
The sweety is shivering, the pant was dropped to the corner long ago
She is shallow and when some juice slips down her throat some time
It whirls me like the most destructive high wind
The cake will be spiced
Just let us have enough, grass, buy it in
I would tell you anything else in vain
R: Believe me it's not my fault
This is the place where that damned storck put me down
Believe me it's not my fault
The spring of rock'n'roll stretches me from the inside
Believe me it's not my fault
This is the place where that damned storck put me down
Believe me it's not my fault
The spring of rock'n'roll stretches me from the inside
Believe me it's not my fault
This is the place where that damned storck put me down
Believe me it's not my fault
The spring of rock'n'roll stretches me from the inside