| I was on my way to school when a fellow I could meet
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| Took me by the hand and he told me I was sweet
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| And I knew by the way he smoked
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| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| Yes I knew by the way he smoked
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| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| As we walked down along he asked me for my phone
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| He told me his name and I told him the same
|
| And I knew by the way he smoked
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| Yes I knew by the way he smoked
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| Got on the jiving about a fling
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| He knew just what was happening
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| He had my heart just a pumping
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| But he was really saying something
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| He had my heart up on a shelf
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| Good he was really something else
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| I saw him and went home, sat down to wait
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| He called me at eight, not one minute late
|
| And I knew by the way he smoked
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| Yes I knew by the way he smoked
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| I saw him and went home, sat down to wait
|
| He called me at eight, not one minute late
|
| And I knew by the way he smoked
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| Yes I knew by the way he smoked
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| He was a bad motorcycle
|
| He was a bad motorcycle |