Tacky make-up and messy boy hair
she wanted to be called - a dyke
clothes wrapped around like cello-tape
everything was a little bit - too tight
red lips wore her sin
her game was men to win
penis was always the prize
taxi hookers, drug pushers
people she found on the net
this girl was by no means fussy
her sex was always to-let
i'd always thought her a little brash
that unintelligent speech
but i guess when men look at her
they don't really care if she speaks
betrayal is the hardest pill
i'd never wish a foe to swallow
but i guess you've never met this shlore
red light on - green light whore.
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