Walk down the street like I run it All the boys say that they love it All the girls, they push and shoving In the club I cause a ruckus Don't repeat that you want I'm speaking it's no discussion Headbang it till a concussion Three drinks and maybe we fucking
He wanna mess with my makeup But his face kinda ugly When I get real fucked up
He look just like James Dean He look just like James Dean
(Yeah) (Tell me, are you ready to make some-) (Yeah, yeah)
Latex lipstick, high heels, my credit card declined Money on the bed when we fucking from behind Clothes off, stereo on, I party every night Latex lipstick, high heels
He look just like James Dean He look just like James Dean
(Tell me, are you ready to make some-)
Make a bitch wanna slit her wrists He ain't ever met another girl like this I don't need ass when I'm Miss New Tits I don't need cash I don't pay for shit She wanna sound like Slayyyter but it's not hitting It's my track that the DJ's be spinning It's not you whores that keep on, keep winning I heard your new song and, bitch, it's not giving
He look just like James Dean
(Tell me, are you ready to make some-)
Compositores: Jonathan Bach, Nicolas Dipietrantonio, Catherine Garner, Owen Jackson, Jacob Decoteau