Don T Bust My Chops lyrics

I`m sick and tired of you calling me names
I`m sick and tired of your childish games
I`m sick and tired of your bullshit brats
Cocaine stupor and anxiety attacks

Picked up the magazine, I see your face
You`re nothin` boy, a goddamn waste
With the lamest fashions on your back
You`re never happy, a hypochondriac

Don`t bust my chops, baby, don`t bust my chops
Yeah!

You`re a styling queen and an alley cat
Too many chocolates keep a fat man fat
You`re a pain in the ass, and your on the (loose)
All I get from you is your bad attitude

Dirty mouth, it`s all I can bear
Get outta here bitch, `cause you`re nowhere
Always wearin` that cheap perfume
Can always tell when you`re in the room

Don`t bust my chops, baby, don`t bust my chops
Ah

Don`t bust my chops, baby, don`t bust my chops
Alright
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