I ain't no broad chested man from 'no romance book
Slim assed chance I'll get by on looks
Not much to draw from my bank account
But, lemme tell you what this man's about
I'm a lover, baby
I'm a lover, baby
(the most delusional, by far)
L, to the O, to the V-E-R
My domicile is a cold water flat
Ain't much hair left underneath this hat
My four-year degree ain't not count
It don't take much to suss me out
I'm a lover, baby...
My automobile ain't built for speed
The horsepower generated is less stud than steed
Forever true- I ain't got much to show
I get my point across with these three chords that I know
I'm a lover, baby...
(Uncle Grund: "Why you talking all foolish, Son?... Cook-Out... Bruh-guh King...)
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