| Running late, in my hit at my coffee table
|
| Then I run out of gas
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| I heard the count but ended up in the middle of nowhere
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| And someone stole all my cash
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| Guess, guess
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| Oh what a tango way by wave
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| I’ve got no tricks that left on my sleeves
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| I’ve tossed my head into the rain
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| I’ve got it bad
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| You’ve got it even worse now
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| Let’s put our heads together
|
| And reverse the curse
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| I’ve dressed up but slip into the muddy water
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| The stages just ain’t going right
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| Bottom vices always need be strict to crisis
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| That’s my so called life. |
| life, life
|
| Oh what a tango way by wave
|
| I’ve got no tricks that left on my sleeves
|
| I’ve tossed my head to the rain
|
| I’ve got it bad
|
| You’ve got it even worse now
|
| Let’s put our heads together
|
| And reverse the curse
|
| I’m all out of lock
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| Or raising running out of me
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| I’m all all screwed up But there’s no place I rather be Oh, I’ve got it bad
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| You’ve got it even worse now
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| Baby we put our heads together
|
| And reverse the curse
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| Oh, I’ve got it good (I've got it good now)
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| You’ve even got it better now
|
| Baby we put our heads together
|
| And reverse the curse
|
| Yes we reverse the curse
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| So my so called life |