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
