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lirik lagu buck 65 - square two

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swimming upstream,
young men and women are fiending for
immediate intimacy with no limitiations.
alas, the skirts don’t hide the shadows
cast by the bare -ss on the dancefloor.
s-xual warfare waits in the staircase
and therefore most of them probably
shouldn’t even really be there in the first place.
unarmed soldiers of l-st rub shoulders
with those older and more immature than them,
it’s disgusting, yet intruiging to see
overachieving greasers unleashing themselves
upon the female species,
especially when the weather gets warmer and then
the whole entire wardrobe is normally informal.
for your information, the hats are worn backwards
and so are the morals when the girls wear overalls.
it’s a sensitive issue involving insecurity
maturity levels, and lots of toilet tissue ’cause…

the girls are desperate,
but the boys are even h-rnier,
the rose smells sweet
but the stem is even th-rnier.
it’s a match made in purgatory,
what more do you want to know?
http://www.free-lyrics.org/buck-65/46121-square-two.html

the girls get gooseb-mps and nipples to notice but
no one knows how to communicate it’s useless when
lies are told with closed eyes and
everybody tries to disguise their own flaws when the guys go,
“we need females and we read details.”
it’s card tricks and hard d-cks
and a beat that goes like “uh uh uh yeah, uh huh uh uh yeah.”
the neat part of the meat market apart from the
darkness and lots of narcotics to me is the hard rocks,
no one needs to be told twice, there’s plenty of cold ice,
just tight pants and old spice who take shots and roll dice.
the carpets are crumby with puke coming out of them.
it’s putrid and stupid
why don’t you make a contribution
to the plan-gathering, as a matter fact, word
what do you say, this thursday, or sat-rday, you thirsty?

the girls are desperate,
but the boys are even h-rnier.
the rose smells sweet
but the stem is even th-rnier.
it’s a match made in purgatory,
what more do you want to know?

it smells like everything inside of the hideout
but i doubt anyone really wants to know why,
oh my, goodness gracious, the place is basically bulging
with people indulging in, all kinds of fabric,
it’s a magical buffet of pheromones and flesh
that defies all logic.
it’s just like dodgeball, but instead of a ball
the contestants throw around the head of a doll
and i don’t know what it means,
but it makes it worth the cost alone,
even with the overflowing load of testosterone.
the s-xual appet-tes are salty, it’s a circus,
the circuits are faulty, and everybody’s uptight
with sweat stains and jet planes and hot rod love songs,
blistering kisses for every mister and misses,
in the same of time it takes for you to make a sandwich, love,
you can probably find someone for you to take advantage of.

’cause the girls are desperate,
but the boys are even h-rnier.
the rose smells sweet
but the stem is even th-rnier.
it’s a match made in purgatory,
what more do you want to know?


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