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We think money on the trees so look at my roots,
When we stroll phobia with the rent wrapped around our feet,
So fascinated by the splendid specimen under the arm,
And if you follow my machopis, then they must think it's well caught,
Share a bed with a stranger because content is secondary,
Then nge it matches my textile and the scent of vetiver,
And god forbid that we fell like lucifer for the other sex,
Because the tickling sensation in the stomach cannot be translated into fucking money,
So there is double up on all lifestyles and behavior patterns,
And what doesn't come naturally is just a shot at what you think they want,
Fuck it I let myself be carried away like biased sorrows,
And take a much bigger piece than I could ever bite down on,
I break my jaw out of joint because I can lose my feather ¦s,
So what's the use of thinking about the last time I saw you,
I shouldn't trust you and everything in me supports it,
But let me just try once and then what has to happen will happen,