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City Girl (Amuse-Meant-to-Get-Her)

This song is by Cecil Otter.

She smells like mocha foam and showbiz, I pull my own weight
That's broken home aerobics man she pulls the wool great
She's the shortest storm with no tip
Whores are forming blows dixie
There's no reason to whistle while you're not working
She's at the club cock searching
Gold hearted lost virgin
Thinks the pots not working, I'm not certain
I think she's into men who are into themselves
Claiming independent but they're living off of women's wealth
I hit the shelves for records while she expels the effort
To get some help and gets some work done on her constitution
It ain't prostitution, at least in her mind
To me she's just a lost illusion, yes her and her kind
They ask what's her sign I say man I think its trouble
And when she's burning lines it's the worst time to kiss and cuddle
She's mixing double shots for that hotter confidence
Swimming in a lake of dirty germs and water mocassins
Her daughters often been a part of her late night
Got sharks swimming around her babies heart and it ain't right
She makes life just to make ends meet
While I sharpen my knife spin brakes sleep and eat like
You're still breathing city girl, you're still breathing
You're still breathing city girl, well you can take a seat and eat your heart out while its still beating
It was amuse-meant-to-get-her in the mood of a soldier
Her eyes are army green and they're glued to my holster
She's quick to the draw, iron sides always smoking
She keeps this blade in her bra and it's always open
But I'm a sharpshooter, and she's a little rusty
Sick little puppy set her sights into the middle of me
Hits an ugly sound of music but I had to face it
She heated up this argument and I was asked to taste it
Had to let it cool before I bite the bullet and
Give some credit to the cook I mean she pulled it off
Like she did her mask and like she did her smile
Her futures a bittle past skipping class with her inner child

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