It's gotten old

It’s gettin’ old—people talk like I’m a one-track fuckin’ mind,

Like every song’s just moans and groans, a grindin’ beat, a dirty rhyme.

They say, “There he goes again, singin’ 'bout that pussy, ass and thighs,”

Like I don’t know a damn thing ‘cept how to make a woman beg and cry.

So this one’s clean—no leather boots, no cuffs, no hard nipples, no sin,

No gasping, panting, no creampies or heavy grins…

Just a nice, respectable—

Oh fuck it, who am I kidding?

---

No, I won’t sing about how she rode me ‘til my legs went numb,

Or how she whispered filth so hot I damn near bit my tongue.

Won’t talk about her nails in my back or her mouth on every inch,

Or how she begged me to go deeper, harder—God, that filthy little bitch.

Nope—this ain’t that kind of song,

Just ignore that bulge in my jeans, move along…

---

I could write one 'bout her mind—her soul, her smile, her grace,

But then she showed up in my bed, sat bare ass on my face.

Said, “You wanna write about my heart? Then poke it with your lance ”

And next thing I was buried balls deep up in her pants.

I tried, I swear, to keep it clean—no sweat, no thrust, no moans—

But when she spread across that counter, baby, all bets were blown.

---

No, I won’t sing about her thighs wrapped tight around my head,

Or how she made me lose my name with every filthy word she said.

Won’t mention how she tasted like sin and summer rain,

Or how she begged, “Don’t you dare stop,” again and fucking again.

Nope—this ain’t that kind of track,

Just ignore my voice crackin’ like I’m flashin’ back…

---

Look—I get it, y’all are tired of the smut and the sweat,

But when she bends like that, what the hell did you expect?

I tried to make this song polite, I really gave a damn—

But she dropped to her knees, and baby, there went the plan.

---

No, I won’t talk about how she clawed and bit and screamed,

Or how we broke the bedframe chasing every dirty dream.

This was supposed to be about restraint, about not doin’ wrong…

But fuck it, you were right—

I am sll about that kind of song.