|
Oh, she's an eight ball |
|
She's a'rollin faster than a whitewall |
|
She's got an avalanche packed in a snowball |
|
She's losin' all the leeches like a stone wall |
|
She's loaded up |
|
She's the underdog |
|
Gonna take a mighty swipe |
|
At the high hog |
|
While a'sippin on her tricks |
|
In a thick fog |
|
Makin' eyes at the girls like bullfrogs |
|
I'm telling you, sir |
|
She's comin' up from |
|
Comin' up from, comin' up |
|
Comin' up from behind |
|
Yeah |
|
She's comin' up from |
|
Comin' up from, comin' up |
|
Comin' up from behind |
|
You'd like her hanging |
|
Like a sneaker on a live wire, dangling |
|
While your Wall Street pockets are jangling |
|
With the hollow jackpot of your rich kid games |
|
It's a long shot |
|
She's got the truths and a tongue for a slingshot |
|
But she's takin' steady aim |
|
At the big shot |
|
It's hard to miss the rolling bullets |
|
On the blacktop |
|
You better watch your turf |
|
She's comin' up from |
|
Comin' up from, comin' up |
|
Comin' up from behind |
|
Yeah |
|
She's comin' up from |
|
Comin' up from, comin' up |
|
Comin' up from behind |
|
You had her hanging |
|
Like a sneaker on a live wire, dangling |
|
While your golden-lined pockets were jangling |
|
With the hollow jackpot of your wicked games |
|
She caught your sick lie |
|
It was creepin' in the shadow of your white smile |
|
Lurkin' underneath the cover of your bedroom eyes |
|
Well, you're greasin' up plans for your small-fry |
|
You wanna talk it up, do you? |
|
Well you're floatin like a royal balloon, oh |
|
Your ego's swollen to the size of the moon, well |
|
I think you found somebody to cut you down to size |
|
Well, well |
|
Yeah |
|
She's comin' up from |
|
Comin' up from, comin' up |
|
Comin' up from behind |
|
Yeah |
|
She's comin' up from |
|
Comin' up from, comin' up |
|
Comin' up from behind |
|
She's comin' up from |
|
Comin' up from, comin' up |
|
Comin' up from behind |
|
Yeah |
|
She's comin' up from |
|
Comin' up from, comin' up |
|
Comin' up from behind |
