City Girl (Amuse-Meant-To-Get-Her)

[Verse 1]
She smells like mocha foam and showbiz; I pull my own weight
That's broken home aerobics, man, she pulls the wool great
She's the shortest storm with no tip; whores her form and blows Dixie
There's no reason to whistle while you're not workin'
She's at the club, cock searchin', gold hearted, lost virgin
Thinks the pots not workin', I'm not certain
I think she's into men, who are into themselves
Claiming independent, but they're living off of women's wealth
I hit the shelves for records, while she expels the effort
To get some help and get some work done on her constitution
It ain't prostitution, at least in her mind
To me, she's just a lost illusion, yes, her and her kind
They ask, "What's her sign?" I say, "Man, I think it's trouble."
And when she's burnin' lines, it's the worst time to kiss and cuddle
She's mixin' double shots for that hotter confidence
Swimmin' in a lake of dirty germs and water moccasins
Her daughter's often been a part of her late night
Got sharks swimmin' around her baby's heart, and it ain't right
She makes life just to make ends meet
While I sharpen my knife, spin, break, sleep, and eat, like:

[Hook]
You're still breathin', city girl, you're still breathin'
You're still breathin', city girl, well you can take a seat
And eat your heart out, while it's still beatin'

[Verse 2]
It was amuse-meant-to-get-her in the mood of a soldier
Her eyes are army green, and they're glued to my holster
She's quick to the draw, iron sides always smokin'
She keeps this blade in her bra, and it's always open
But I'm a sharpshooter, and she's a little rusty
Sick little puppy set her sights into the middle of me
Hits an ugly sound of music, but I had to face it
She heated up this argument, and I was asked to taste it
Had to let it cool before I bite the bullet and
Give some credit to the cook, I mean she pulled it off
Like she did her mask and like she did her smile
Her future's a bitter past, skipping class with her inner child