City Girl (Amuse-Meant-To-Get-Her)

[Verse 1] She smells like mocha foam and showbiz; I pull my own weight That's broken home aerobics, man, she pulls the wool great She's the shortest storm with no tip; whores her form and blows Dixie There's no reason to whistle while you're not workin' She's at the club, cock searchin', gold hearted, lost virgin Thinks the pots not workin', I'm not certain I think she's into men, who are into themselves Claiming independent, but they're living off of women's wealth I hit the shelves for records, while she expels the effort To get some help and get some work done on her constitution It ain't prostitution, at least in her mind To me, she's just a lost illusion, yes, her and her kind They ask, "What's her sign?" I say, "Man, I think it's trouble." And when she's burnin' lines, it's the worst time to kiss and cuddle She's mixin' double shots for that hotter confidence Swimmin' in a lake of dirty germs and water moccasins Her daughter's often been a part of her late night Got sharks swimmin' around her baby's heart, and it ain't right She makes life just to make ends meet While I sharpen my knife, spin, break, sleep, and eat, like: [Hook] You're still breathin', city girl, you're still breathin' You're still breathin', city girl, well you can take a seat And eat your heart out, while it's still beatin' [Verse 2] It was amuse-meant-to-get-her in the mood of a soldier Her eyes are army green, and they're glued to my holster She's quick to the draw, iron sides always smokin' She keeps this blade in her bra, and it's always open But I'm a sharpshooter, and she's a little rusty Sick little puppy set her sights into the middle of me Hits an ugly sound of music, but I had to face it She heated up this argument, and I was asked to taste it Had to let it cool before I bite the bullet and Give some credit to the cook, I mean she pulled it off Like she did her mask and like she did her smile Her future's a bitter past, skipping class with her inner child