Hot Mess

hot mess,

sous chef,

oh baby you got me so stressed,

baby step back and give it a rest,

that poor roast look like it in destress.

baby,

sendin up smoke signals praying to Jesus for a hope,

swear to God if I tried it- I'd fuckin choke

baby,

everything you make- makes my hope for you shrink,

swear to God last week I heard your pasta

screaming

from the

kitchen sink,

baby,

I'm not saying I don't love you,

but your cookin sure don't look good for you,

baby,

I pray to the good Lord above please just save me!

if he don't then boy hand me that fuckin recipe!

I don't got the stomach for this,

but I'll never tell you "you ain't born to dish"

baby,

hot mess,

sous chef,

oh baby you got me so stressed,

baby step back and give it a rest,

before the doctor gotta run some test baby,

hot mess,

sous chef,

I know you're tryin your best.

baby,

you sing like something holy,

I worship the dirt you walk through baby,

I get drunk off your love like communion wine,

I pray to God you always mine,

baby I'll never get enough of your laugh,

oh baby you look so fine- I feel my-heart-stop when I see you from behind-,

but baby when it comes to dinner,-

"I'll be fine."

hot mess,

sous chef,

oh baby you got me so stressed,

baby step back and give it a rest,

before the doctor gotta run some test baby,

hot mess,

sous chef,

I know you're tryin your best.

baby,

oh oh oh oh no,

baby,

oh oh oh oh no,

mm,

oh oh oh oh no,

oh oh oh oh no.

"oh! you made dinner.....thanks."