You Pregnant Motherfucker

You always let them in
All of these fucked up men
Unlock the door when I ain't home

They take off all your clothes
Like you're some docile doe
You're making love to make it up

Oh, will somebody help us, please?
Convince us our love is no disease
That we won't be lonely when we're alone
From now on, what we touch
Will turn to gold

Oh, will somebody help us, please?
Convince us our love is no disease
That we won't be lonely when we're alone
From now on, what we touch
Will turn to gold



Credits
Writer(s): Aimee C Argote
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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