I don’t ever talk about the weather

I wear a long coat made of chickadee feathers

Well I squawk loud

When I'm pushing through a rush hour crowd

On the way to your house

And it's a low life, baby

Aristocrats sippin' fine wine

Ain't my perception of a good time

It’s what I'm having

Where do I sign?

I'll go straight to hell laughing, come on

Come on come on come on

Since I was fourteen

Repped it hard like I was James Dean

Giving chickadees some wet jeans

When I rolled through I made it my scene

She was a tall lady

Six feet plus and making men crazy

I hollered at her from my blue Mercedes

Now she walk the streets for me daily

I don’t ever talk about the weather

I wear a long coat made of chickadee feathers

Well I squawk loud

When I'm pushing through a rush hour crowd

On the way to your house

And it's a low life, baby

Aristocrats sippin' fine wine

Ain't my perception of a good time

It’s what I'm having

Where do I sign?

I'll go straight to hell laughing, come on

Come on come on come on