Zero options to choose
Squirrel is running on the roof
It wasn't about the sex
Sweet, okay makes sense
Faces, sex on the white sand beaches of saint thomas, though this ain't
They see me in that lavender tank, you'd rather just faint
Swing my sever of the roof on an extension cord
Dad wasn't around -- my father figure was too short
The whole house is burned down from the roof to the carpet
Man these songs that i made in my bedroom and shit
Wanted to go skate, can't, now my day is borin', damn
But my shit done hit the roof and the ceiling fan.
Mr. automatic bang, bang, bang
The correct answers malcolm sex man
Sitting on the roof and yell fuck everything
Now this is what i call an evening
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