Tipsy on the Dancefloor

Friends and family, come here and have a drink
Margaritas at my place, who cares what your husband thinks?
Let's go to the club, I really want to tango
Strawberry martinis, apple and mango
Leave the kids at home, and wear something spunky
We're dancing with our cocktails, the music's pretty funky
And if the babysitter calls, who cares? She's a slut
I'm cute, petite, and wealthy and I'm here to shake my butt
I'm tipsy on the dance floor
(Don't tell my husband, don't tell my husband)
(Don't tell my husband)
Because I'm tipsy on the dance floor
(Don't tell my husband, don't tell my husband)
(Don't tell my husband)
Because I'm tipsy on the dance floor
(Don't tell my husband, don't tell my husband)
(Don't tell my husband)
Because I'm tipsy on the dance floor
(Don't tell my husband, don't tell my husband)
And you're fucking ugly



Credits
Writer(s): Fraser Kidd
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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