| Verse
|
| Well, she’s all geared up, walkin' down the street.
|
| And I can feel the slime, drippin' down her sleeve.
|
| Well, you can’t refuse and you just can’t choose what she’s gonna do.
|
| Well, you can’t refuse and you just can’t choose what she’s gonna do.
|
| Ooh,
|
| Verse
|
| Well, it’s late at night, and I’m all alone.
|
| And I can hear her boots as she’s near her home.
|
| Well, you can’t refuse and you just can’t choose what she’s gonna do.
|
| Well, you can’t refuse and you just can’t choose what she’s gonna do.
|
| Chorus
|
| Scratch, scratch, she’s clawing at the door.
|
| Whoa, no, I can’t take it anymore.
|
| Crack, crack I’m feeling so sore,
|
| I never should asked for black leather.
|
| Black leather. |
| Ooh, black leather,
|
| Ow black leather.
|
| Verse
|
| And you can try to hide, but you won’t get far.
|
| You can let her in, and you’ll start it again
|
| Well, you can’t refuse and you just can’t choose what she’s gonna do.
|
| Well, you can’t refuse and you just can’t choose what she’s gonna do.
|
| Chorus |