| It’s like it always rains when I run my brain,
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| The chitter chatter’s got me shattered,
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| And I feel like I’m scattered now,
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| I’m battered,
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| Knocked down to the concrete,
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| Because of cruising past that parking lot on seventeenth street,
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| That’s where me and my girl locked in a backseat bliss,
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| I can’t believe that all this bullshit started up with a kiss,
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| It’s like all my dreams they turn into a life,
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| And now I’m feelin’like I’m sittin’on the edge of a knife!
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| Woah now woah hey woah say woah,
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| I wanna tell her that I love her but I don’t all the time,
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| Woah now woah hey woah say woah,
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| It’s got me drinkin’and I’m thinkin’as I drive through the light,
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| Starin’out through the windshield wipers,
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| Then it hits me like a shot from the sniper!
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| Judy that baby ain’t got my eyes,
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| I wonder whose eyes they is,
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| Yeah,
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| Judy that baby ain’t got my smile,
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| I wonder whose smile that is,
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| Yeah
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| Shit had me fool proof,
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| But I’m the fool with the proof,
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| It’s just an urban legend if ya think that you’ll be happy,
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| The truth is that la vida loca was all about you creepy sneakin',
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| Yeah yeah,
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| You got me drinkin’yo,
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| You got the luscious johnson,
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| You got the magic bone,
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| Now you don’t get no money like the lawyer said on the phone,
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| I come to ransack your shack,
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| Your suburb,
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| Your Cadillac,
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| Full custody,
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| I’ll take it all back!
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| Woah now woah hey woah say woah,
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| I wanna tell her that I love her but I don’t all the time,
|
| Woah now woah hey woah say woah,
|
| I got the feelin’that I’m livin’at the scene of a crime,
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| Starin’out through the windshield wipers,
|
| Then it hits me like a shot from the sniper!
|
| Judy that baby ain’t got my eyes,
|
| I wonder whose eyes they is,
|
| Yeah,
|
| Judy that baby ain’t got my smile,
|
| I wonder whose smile that is,
|
| Yeah
|
| It’s no use,
|
| It’s no use
|
| Woah now woah hey woah say woah,
|
| I wanna tell her that I love her but I don’t all the time,
|
| Woah now woah hey woah say woah,
|
| I got the feelin’like I’m livin’at the scene of a crime,
|
| Woah now woah hey woah say woah,
|
| I coulda sworn that I was trippin’it was such a surprise,
|
| Woah now woah hey woah say woah,
|
| And now my grip is kinda slippin’while my little one cries,
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| Starin’out through the windshield wipers,
|
| Then it hits me like a shot from the sniper!
|
| Judy that baby ain’t got my eyes,
|
| I wonder whose eyes they is,
|
| (Those eyes see),
|
| Yeah,
|
| Judy that baby ain’t got my smile,
|
| (Ain't got my smile),
|
| I wonder whose smile that is,
|
| (I wonder),
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| Yeah,
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| Judy that baby ain’t got my style,
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| (That baby),
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| (That baby),
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| I wonder whose style that is,
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| (Woah I wonder),
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| Yeah,
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| Judy that baby just ain’t my child,
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| (It ain’t my child),
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| I wonder whose child that is,
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| I know it ain’t mine
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| It must be his,
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| His his his,
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| It must be his,
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| Yeah |