Let me tell you 'bout someone who's no pleasure to meet
You wouldn't offer her a back seat
Just 'cause her father's a vicar who is full of pulpit
There is no one sicker, spells S.H. one T
Well she looks real cute when she puts in the boot
A night time slicker
An A.R.S. licker
A C.O.C. teaser, an ice cream squeezer
Her C.U.M. really do you in
So don't you try to F.U.C. her
If I wouldn't touch her with mine
Well she went to California, turned everybody off
Sure has a nice way of F'ing things up
She used to make all the guys cream
In her ice blue jeans and a jar of Vaseline
Well she looks real cute when she puts in the boot
A night time slicker, an A.R.S. licker
A C.O.C. teaser, an ice cream squeezer
Her C.U.N. really do you in
That's what I say F.U. try this for size
So her destiny lies now in the pit of fate
One of those strange people you just love to hate
She is S.I.C., she is deranged
Even her poor old banker was short changed
She looks real cute when she puts in the boot
A night time slicker, an A.R.S. licker
A C.O.C. teaser, an ice cream squeezer
Her C.U.N. really do you in
So don't you try to F.U.C. her
If I wouldn't touch her with mine
Well she looks real cute when she puts in the boot
A night time slicker, an A.R.S. licker
A C.O.C. teaser, an ice cream squeezer
Her C.U.N. really do you in
So don't you try to F.U.C. her
If I wouldn't touch her with mine
So don't you try to F.U.C. her
If I wouldn't touch her with mine
If you wanna risk F.U.C. her, try this for size
F.U.C. Her was written by Ron Wood.