Boy, what you gonna do? With her name lighting up your phone If you pick it up, she's gonna tell you "Baby, come back home." She'll fool you again She's just trying to rope you in Like the last time and the time before She'll be gone with the wind
She tells you that she loves you She tells you that she cares Says she talks to God about you In her Sunday prayers Hard not to believe her But you don't ever know 'Cause she's the kind of girl that tells her mama That she don't smoke
She don't smoke
She's trying to quit But she can't help herself She's got a hard-to-shake bad habit Of putting you through Hell She's no good for you You know it ain't true
When she tells you that she loves you She tells you that she cares Says she talks to God about you In her Sunday prayers Hard not to believe her But you don't ever know 'Cause she's the kind of girl that tells her mama That she don't smoke, she don't drink, we don't sleep in my Chevrolet You know that you ought to let her go
She don't smoke
She tells you that she loves you She tells you that she cares Says she talks to God about you In her Sunday prayers Hard not to believe her But you don't ever know 'Cause she's the kind of girl that tells her mama That she don't smoke, she don't drink, we don't sleep in my Chevrolet You know that you ought to let her goTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.