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Princess Superstar
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Trouble
Lyricist:Concetta Kirschner, Leonard Smythe
Hold your breath when you see me walking by I'm obsessed with movies, Barbed Wire, throw a stiletto in ya eye I confess, I'm like Jesse James in an Ames parking lot Have humorous fun, pulling numerous guns on consumers, run
Your man-freaked that, I told John, ‽Get back†Broke your 8Track, A-Dats stole your Kit Kats Grab your fanny pack and gagged you With a six, pack a six White Castle sack
Drip wax in your office fax Changed a few facts in your contract Your advance is axed and A & R is gonna write all ya new tracks
I'm on the dole with mad loot selling bootlegs of poor artists Got two legs to work but I beg for change to drink Bacardis Hearty meals got these Hardy Boys hard Then taught Nancy Drew and her dog
How to jerk off and how to steal from drug dealers Ahh, enough of this I killed Snuffalufagus With pills and made a snuff film To prove to Big Bird he exists, see he is real
I'm, ill can't deal with mere mortals Got a portal in my knee to beam me To a balance beam but I just drank 3 Jim Beams My Olympic team is gonna scream at me, is it my turn?
I gotta pee, I'm 14 but haven't grown since I was three Get my kicks feeding drinks to kids in rehab clinks Minx took Pink to my sink and used her hair die to die my minks Tattoo inks with Ajax, I hijacked Pat Sajak
Sent him back to Wheel of Fortune With a bad limp and a crack habit Silly rabbit this song is for kids The way the messed up system is
If I was a black man, I'd be up on a 8 year bid I'd ego, you know, I wish I owned those Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com But I sold 'em to buy nice speakers What kind? Bose
Trouble, we like it like that
Trouble capital T stands for me Punching ya tummy, cover you with honey and ants Fatal Attraction, boil a bunny while I break dance Fart in my hot pants in a crowded theater at Sundance Must have been the hot ranch
So let's dance because I killed Bowie's wife with a bowie knife C'mon Mon, it was Iman and man Bowie's my man gimme one more night
I just upchucked my pills and Tom Collins On Phil Collins, I mean Phil it was just a spill-chill Bad upbringing, I made Jerry's kids phone stop ringing I'm only kidding with this sick singing
I'm just giving what this track's bringing Trouble, I'm not subtle I need more air So I popped that kid and stole his bubble Stuck him in some double Tupperware
A clean death inject ya with Crest and crystal meth Obsessed with my own breasts Won't look at you so don't get undressed for sex I guess, I'm on a rampage for underage idols
Did Malcolm's bro in the middle and little Kenny with subtitles I strike quick like the emperor not the right temperature and I think it's too easy to make fun of 98 Degrees And now that you mention it Britney, Christina and N'sync Why even bother, we'll all be gone by next week
Trouble, we like it like that Trouble, we like it like that Trouble, we like it like that Trouble, we like it like that
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