Tarantula

Sex and death, i've got both perfected.
The way you dress, it's what i-i invented.
I've got what you want,
You've got lots of 'tude.
Don't speak back to me;
I find it very rude.
Easy-bake heartache.
You don't have a clue cos you've got nothing on me boy.
ah ah ah-ah ah ah-ah ah ah etc,
I'll change it up just to throw you off,
before we met you still believed in god.
How the fuck do you get by without your own,
without your own mind!?



Credits
Writer(s): Darren Cordeux, Karl Ammitzboll, Joel Vanderuit, Sean Thomas
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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