Låttexter
Walk down the street like I run it
All the boys say that they love it
All the girls, they push and shoving
In the club I cause a ruckus
Don't repeat that you want it
I'm speaking, it's no discussion
Headbang it 'til a concussion
Three drinks and maybe we fuckin'
He wanna mess with my makeup
But his face kinda ugly
When I get real fucked up
He look just like James Dean
(Yeah)
(Yeah)
He look just like James Dean
(Yeah)
(Tell me, are you ready to make some)
(Yeah)
Latex, lipstick, high heels, my credit card declined
Money on the bed when we fuckin' from behind
Clothes off, stereo on, I party every night
Latex, lipstick, high heels
He look just like James Dean
(Yeah)
(Tell me, are you ready to make)
(Yeah)
He look just like James Dean
(Tell me, are you ready to make some)
Make a bitch wanna slit her wrists
He ain't ever met another girl like this
I don't need ass when I'm Miss New Tits
I don't need cash, I don't pay for shit
She wanna sound like Slayyyter but it's not hitting
It's my track that the DJ's be spinning
It's not you whores that keep on, keep winnin'
I heard your new song and, bitch, it's not giving, ah
He look just like James Dean
(Tell me, are you ready to make some)
