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I’ll get back in the kitchen.
I’ll wear my hair up for you real, real nice
My neck will be adorned with pearls
I’ll put rouge on my cheeks like a pretty girl
As I bring you whiskey on ice
I’ll do all these things
But one thing will always stay true
Your shitty attitude
Will never convince a woman to lay with you

So get real with yourself
You’re not the heartbreaker you thought you were destined to be
Put your feet down, from my table
It’s called common courtesy (I doubt you heard of it)
Don’t test my limits
Or my generosity
Don’t stroke my face or these feminine hands will cause your fingers to bleed
Your masculinity is so fragile
I could break you with a tap
The only time ill get on my knees for you is to sweep up your fragments like glass

It’s a pity your mother has to see you like this
And it’s a pity any form of criticism gets you pissed
It’s a pity you have an insufferable god complex
It’s a pity (2x)

Chorus

I’ll get back in the kitchen
I’ll wear my hair up for myself real real nice
My neck will be adorned with pearls
I’ll put rouge on my cheeks like a pretty girl
As I pour myself a whiskey on ice

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