Couch Freak (Allen’s Obsession)

“Couch Freak (Allen’s Obsession)”

(Beat: Smooth but ridiculous—like Ginuwine’s “Pony” meets Lonely Island energy. Think sexy R&B… for the wrong reasons)

By: The Square Cow Crew ft. Disturbed Bystanders

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We all thought it was just a couch.

Standard three-seater.

But Allen…

He saw more.

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Allen showed up wearin’ silk and shame,

Brought rose petals and whispered its name.

Crew just blinkin’, standin’ in shock,

He said “Don’t scratch her legs”—bro, it’s a La-Z-Boy, stop.

He lit candles in the back of the truck,

Had slow jams playin’—we were like, “What the f**k?”

He said “This ain’t movin’… this is love on springs,”

Started lotionin’ cushions like he buyin’ rings.

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Couch freak! He in too deep!

Allen got attachments that don’t run cheap!

Couch freak! He whisperin’ low…

“That ain’t furniture, that’s my baby, yo!”

Couch freak! We need HR!

Why he takin’ selfies with the throw pillow star?!

Couch freak! Can’t unsee that scene…

He moaned when he cleaned the velveteen!

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He refused the dolly—said “she rides with me,”

Then buckled the couch in like it’s family.

Asked him “You good?” he said, “I’m great,”

Then kissed the armrest like it’s a dinner date.

Had scented spray, talkin’ “plush support,”

Read it bedtime stories like a goddamn dork.

We said, “Allen, bruh, she’s from Rooms to Go,”

He said, “Y’all just jealous you don’t feel her soul.”

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I ain’t touchin’ that couch, I ain’t loadin’ that sin,

You on your own, bro, I ain’t steppin’ in.

He talkin’ “deep cushions” with lust in his tone…

Allen, go home. Leave the loveseat alone.

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Couch freak! That ain’t okay!

Caught him tuckin’ it in at the end of the day!

Couch freak! He done crossed lines…

“That’s mahogany legs”—bro, stop with the rhymes!

Couch freak! This ain’t love, it’s dust!

You can’t marry a couch, bro—where’s the trust?!

Couch freak! This job ain’t that deep!

You need therapy, not throw pillow heat!

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We had to let Allen go.

Not for breaking policy…

But for whispering,

“She’s got curves Ikea don’t understand.”

…Yeah. We gone.

(Beat fades. Tape gun clicks. Someone in the background mutters, “We burnin’ that couch.”)