Hmm, I don't like, I don't like, I don't like Little Nokia's, yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't, I don't, yeah, yeah, uh Neil's trustin', you got Kylie, Madonna, got Justin Can't trust him, yeah, mama said throw him in the dustbin Every time he on his own, tell me lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lies Maybe he's always on the road, let me drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive What's happening? Got Willie, got Miley, got Kirsten Can't catch him, running balance, he ain't tryna get busted Cut the phone and gotta go, say my na-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay, na-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay, I don't think he wanna know Even ma-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay, na-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay He only hit me with a text When you want that goddess level sex Boy, you got me fucked up, what the hell is sex?! Boy, you cute but, boy, you stress I ain't like you, I don't mess with sex Boy, you got me fucked up, this ain't good for breasts News just in, can you hear the little knocky-up ring-ring? Trap line zoomin' Can you leave me on my own? All you do is lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie Boy, your reason, what's your song? Playin' with your lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie He only hit me with a text When you want that goddess level sex Boy, you got me fucked up, what the hell is sex?! Boy, you cute but, boy, you stress I ain't like you, I don't mess with sex Boy, you got me fucked up, this ain't good for breasts Oooh Can't come, can't come, won't come, won't come Can't come, can't come to the phone now Can't come, can't come I won't answer your call Can't come, can't come to the phone now I'm sorry I can't come to the phone Hid you in aEt à tin Oooh She-o-o-o-o-oh