Bra straps swinging to the left,
Lipstick smeared to the right,
With headlights brighter than New York City Lights.
And a face that shines bright under the black light.
Her skirt and waistline always seem to fight.
As she walks, woman duck and cover with their stricken men in spite.
Necklace around her neck made of love bites,
But she doesn't care; she's driving your Ferrari tonight.
Every day, she starts her job as a night life exotic doll,
Patrolling the clubs to look for any valuable loose change to fall.
She's instantly activated by their clinging calls.
Grabbing every shiny, drooling dime by the disco balls.
One, Three, Five,
