| You’re wasting your time
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| She says only the lonely people in my life saw me lost in the moment
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| And down on my knees as I beg and I plead
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| For some time in your sheets so I can get what I need
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| Oh yeah
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| Straight struck by her figure
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| Plot worsen shower curtain as she pulls bernard’s trigger
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| And I hope and I pray, that it’s going to fit her
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| But with marlboro lips how the fuck am I gonna quit her
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| Oh yeah
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| But late in the night, I’m wondering like who are you?
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| Are you, baby
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| The thorn in my side, or just my type?
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| I know it’s wrong but I still want this
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| Bad love, too much, your touch, my lonely heart can’t get enough, oh
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| She, she sit there making fun of my tendency to fumble buttons
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| Frequency of quickly coming
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| To make me feel like I’m yours
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| And me, I push my friends against the fence
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| She on the hunt for finger prints
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| Or circumstantial evidence
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| The things I’ll do just to score
|
| But late in the night, I’m wondering like who are you?
|
| Are you, baby
|
| The thorn in my side, or just my type?
|
| I know it’s wrong but I still want this
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| Bad love, too much, your touch, my lonely heart can’t get enough
|
| Speaking sweet sins, wet wick, calling my bluffs
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| Like text and sex; |
| I feel the same
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| Talking homicidal thoughts and growing pains |