Running and fumbling words high off the fact that maybe I might get what I feel I deserve its like curb pitching dope sex in the kitchen no over looking every nook and cranny getting took in boiling sensations seat over skin moaning yelling killing it like a convicted felon you wouldn't believe what I'm selling
dreams by the way of jeans passed down by the way of genes hot and heavy molten rock melt your inhibitions until the feeling stops wake up the next morning asking was I that high or were you on top I'm talking digging deep soul searching pure lust no hurting in a world of maybe one things for certain I'm going to work when you lift the curtain perform like town cars steady motion can fit two but made for one person you...