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Well, well, well Look who's got some street cred Too bad the street is dead My clothes mismatch from my shirts to my slacks But the only bad taste I've got is in the opposite sex You forget my hands and what they have felt And what I can do with the one's I've been dealt If the dye rinses out will you? We'll see by the end of tonight If you think this might be about you; you're probably right I can't take you off I take you everywhere I can't take you off I take you out all night Well welcome to my skin Too bad my cleansing agent takes ten percent They'll say I've got a way with words When they come back for seconds and thirds They'll say that one's got it Well dressed and well applauded They'll say I made it there without you But first I've got some cleaning to do I can't take you off
