Whaddup my peeps. I’m dancing on air. Hold on to your hard hats, cause I’m a bird in flight, caught like a deer in lust headlights.
The boy blew right by my hazard cones, rolling ‘em left and right. He knows what he’s doin’, his game’s so tight. How long can I resist a player so smooth, his name should be Jiffy? If he asked me out tonight, my usual “No” feels a little iffy.
He’s got me so muddled, he’s messin’ with my rhymin’. Interruptin’ my flow, jackin’ up my timin’.
I can’t run home to momma, at least not tonight. Someone’s on my couch, and that ain’t right.
Hit the road, Jack, don’t mess with my womb. She’s as sacred and holy as King Tut’s tomb.
I upload a pic off the internet of cones flying every direction to go with my blog. I post the Danger Zone. Cool-io.