| Most of these men that are there
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| They’re just lookin' for one thing
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| One thing, one thing, thing
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| And once you give it to them
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| They won’t come back for nothing
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| Nothing, nothing- thing
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| They say they love you
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| But the truth is they’re just hunting
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| Left you with picnic belly higher then the mountain
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| Thirst in your eyes flowing down like a fountain
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| He swears you’re number one
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| But unspecific counting
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| Everybody’s saying you’re with him
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| You still around? |
| You ain’t got no shame
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| You never listen and it’s you to blame
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| He hits and run, you’ll never see him again
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| (Bye-bye, dara-rum, dara-rum)
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| (Bara-rum, dara-rum, dara-rum)
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| (Para-rum, dara-rum, dara-rum)
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| (Vo-yoyo, Vo-yoyo, Vo-yoyo)
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| Out in the street, they call him «A Player»
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| Out in the street, they call him a playa-a-a-a-a-a
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| You should’ve listen, should’ve listen
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| You should’ve listen, should’ve listen now
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| Now you sitin' 'round 'nd missin'
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| Cying a while, oh why, oh why |