Oh oh oh let’s go
My Fender strat sits all alone
Collecting dust in the corner
I haven’t called any of my friends
I’ve been MIA since last December
My blackberry’s filled up with E-mail
My phone calls goes straight through to voicemail
Cuz on the street, or under the covers
We are stuck like two pieces of velcro
At the park, in the back of my car
It doesn’t matter what I do,
No, I can’t keep my hands off you
(can’t keep my, can’t keep my)
Can’t keep my hands off you
(can’t keep my, can’t keep my)
There’s fungus growing in the icebox
All I got left are prutas Roll-Ups
My clothes are six...
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