Luyện nghe bài hát Spaghetti Strapped

Hey
What you lookin'
I have seen you get up, and go to bathroom
Like or six times in the last twenty minutes
What the going on?

1]
Under the great wide sky
Still the same guy the paint dry
bloodshot snake eyes
My lady still hates me like you know she
Because the things in life don't get overlooked
But now I'm here a glass full of beer
Positioned in my chair to your ass from a mirror
and horny, dirty old man
Weed junky drunk tips for the dope man
I'll her with my jukebox selections
Spit a couple in exchange for affection
And if those work as good as they look girl
You can walk up and down the page in my
Can you spell
get your feet wet
Let me make up pet names for all your little
(Here let me buy you a drink as a of my erection)
Hoping you'll open up and put down your weapons

Up, up, let your strap down, put your strap down
Up, up, girl put your strap

2]
Spaghetti strapped, lap around the track
I had to suffer punching onto somebody's
What's up that?
Where's the
Find the dotted line between with and friendship
But damn got head rushed, can't
What's the big fuss it was just a little job
So if her friend took off her bra and socks and drawers
It was like a
Why the witnesses always up in your business
Like they're invested in your best
Who I be with, and who I leave
Affects vicarious life that the weak live
Guess now the pressure's on me to you
you of your weapon, disarm you
See if I can get you off this
We all wanna know if I can get you out your clothes

3]
From the star-fuckers to the lovers
judgment on none
Everyone's got scars
of them will never heal
Sometimes you step aside; you wanna see how the weather feels
You can't them or fill a void with 'em
If you're nuts enjoy trying to make him your boyfriend
I'm like a pile of paper and the day after Christmas
(Naw, naw for real I will take my clothes off right girl)
Who to help me, I'm looking for a muse
This time I'm trying to cook up the blues
make a little love, a little hate
A give and take and give it to the kids that can relate
And we don't have a choice
It's the balance, the bits your ears and my voice
So praise God that the ain't stopped
Let's head to my spot and that wet tank-top off now