| We’re running out of karma and here’s mud in your eye,
|
| I guess it’s you.
|
| I’m gonna love you till you die!
|
| I got a candy-coating,
|
| In a barrel of brine,
|
| I guess it’s you,
|
| You’re gonna take me for a ride.
|
| I’m gonna make you howl like a trailer-park wife,
|
| On the first day of her new life,
|
| Interchangeable knife!
|
| She’s a big, big brider,
|
| Got the devil inside her,
|
| Burger-cook,
|
| Back in my jeans,
|
| Hotter than a meth-lab-fire.
|
| She’ll change a brother,
|
| Kickin' times,
|
| Slide it up and break rhymes,
|
| It’s such a beautiful position,
|
| Got electrical vibes.
|
| Put tequila into my lime,
|
| Be the liberty of life,
|
| Just chop it up,
|
| I don’t need no cook,
|
| Got an interchangeable knife,
|
| Yeah.
|
| We’re moving through the motions of a heart-shaped lie,
|
| I guess it’s you, (I guess it’s you)
|
| I guess it’s you who gonna cry.
|
| If you wanna make a baby, rip it out of your side,
|
| I guess it’s you, (I guess it’s you),
|
| You gonna spread 'em open wide.
|
| She’s a rollin'-pin momma and a rational wife,
|
| Man, it’s such an interesting life,
|
| International knife!
|
| Hey!
|
| Yeah, I know that girl.
|
| What I might be lacking in class,
|
| Make up for in ass.
|
| Try stripping down and flying,
|
| Down the interstate fast,
|
| With original sin,
|
| Dancin' for my lips when I talk,
|
| Got a shotgun rack,
|
| In the back of my truck.
|
| Pull the shift full into first,
|
| It’s all ready to burst,
|
| And the second,
|
| Easy neckin',
|
| Go into third,
|
| Into fourth,
|
| Ooh!
|
| Ooh.
|
| Interchangeable knife!
|
| Interchangeable knife! |