Wannabe
You ain't no Rock star,
You think you're so hard
With all your face tats,
Leather jacket, black car.
You ain't no tough bitch,
You think you're hot shit;
Girl, you're all caked up,
Painted like a gold brick.
You ain't no badass,
You like to talk trash,
Think you're invincible
Fisting all that hard cash.
You ain't no big-shot,
You're just a knock-off,
You're just a well dressed,
Impressive imposter.
You ain't no present tense,
You think you're heaven-sent,
You're just a juiced up
Puppet paying low rent.
You ain't no answer,
You ain't no savior,
You're just a good excuse
For bad behavior.
And you're playing around
Hitting all the right places
Wearing your smile,
Making all the right faces.
You ain't got me fooled,
I can tell that you're faking,
You're just wannabe,
Someone just like me.
But you'll never be,
This shit ain't for free,
There can only be
One one-of-a-kind.
When it's down to the wire,
No one here can deny
That I'm bona fide...
Lzzy Hale
Аудио три минути и половина:
