Trouble

You think you are all that
But you have no volume, too flat
When you walk, the boys stare up the street
You continue to walk on with your two left feet
Wearing high heels and a short skirt
Thinking you’re sexy when you are only dirt
You batter your eyelashes for guys
You’re so ugly, they go cross-eyes
You wear too much make-up, you clown
Making all the boys, fall and frown
They want a girl who can laugh
Be gone, darling! They had enough
They want a girl who knows it best
A girl who can work the mattress
So leave, Go! I hate to bust your bubble
Make way for me, bitch. My name is Trouble!

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