| I’m up on the eleventh floor
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| Watchin' the cruisers below
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| He’s down on the street tryin' hard
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| To pull sister Flo
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| My heart’s in the basement
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| My weekend’s at an all time low
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| 'Cause she’s hopin' to score
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| And I can’t see her lettin' him go
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| Walk out of her heart
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| Walk out of her mind
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| Walk out of her heart
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| Walk out of her mind
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| So swishy in her satin and tat
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| In her black coat and flippedy-floppedy hat
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| Oh God, I can do better than that
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| She’s a street-walking cheatah
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| Of sweet-talking, night-talking games
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| Well, she’s been known in the darkest clubs
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| For lifting her head over the dames
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| If she says she can do it, she can do it
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| She don’t make false claims
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| She’s a queen, such are queens
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| Since you fuck her, she sucks their brains
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| Now she’s leading him on
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| She’ll lay him on down
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| She’s leading him on
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| She’ll lay him right down
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| She’s leading him on
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| It could’ve been me
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| It could’ve been me
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| It could’ve been me
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| So swishy in her satin and tat
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| In her black coat and flippedy-floppedy hat
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| Oh God, I can do better than that
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| I’m up on the eleventh floor, staring at my hotel wall
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| This floor’s so cold, it don’t feel like no bed at all
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| Yeah, I’m up on the eleventh floor, staring at my hotel wall
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| But he’s down on the street so I throw both his bags down the hall
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| Leavin' in a cab, 'cause my stomach feels small
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| There’s a taste in my mouth and it’s no taste at all
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| It should’ve been me
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| It should’ve been me
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| It should’ve been me
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| Why didn’t I stay
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| So swishy in her satin and tat
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| In her black coat and flippedy-floppedy hat
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| Oh God, I can do better than that |