[Verse 1] I've got a funny feeling in my stomach But that don't matter cause me and you are always into something Whether it be riding home drenched in the freezing cold Or entering town where the postboxes now say sold
(Ooh, Aah, Ooh, Aah)
Stop stop stop stop stop I won't stop it Hand me your car keys I'll try and unlock it Sitting in the backseat with that worn out interior Blatantly looked down on by all our superiors
[Hook] Ed Hardy jeans, with broken dreams stitched in between the seams That Boy in a bivvy looks about 13 trying to sell sticks claimed to be weed
[Verse 2] Laugh out loud for you and your wannabe crew In your bodywarmer Nike and bad attitude I'm not being rude but you've already got babies with two different ladies How do you want to be viewed? And worried about getting screwed, stewed and tattooed she's on her own Trying to get your baby some food
[Hook] Ed Hardy jeans, with broken dreams stitched in between the seams That Boy in a bivvy looks about 13 trying to sell sticks claimed to be weed
[Verse 3] Live in sportswear but they never go running Staying in Always burning watching porn Brain numbing Lack of motherly loving from a young age so they can say they never got nothing from anyone Cliché!
(I'm sitting on the curb while my mates rolling a fag, I'm fucking hurting, so bye)
[Hook] Ed Hardy jeans, with broken dreams stitched in between the seams That Boy in a bivvy looks about 13 trying to sell sticks claimed to be weed
[Outro] (I've got enough money in my pocket, and you ain't, yeah)