I'll never get with you.
I'll never ever listen what the neighbors say, or
Don't say, it's so predictable.
I've heard it all a million times, or maybe more,
Same old story.
I'm snoring wake me up in the morning.
'Bout, who I get with,
To even think that you're in with a chance.
Oh, you must be tripping boy,
Oh, you're my whipping boy.
Not with that chat,
That's not where it's at.
I'm just a little bit more particular.
You turn up all uninvited, no surprises;
'Cos my memory.
It serves me well, just laugh again
You did the same thing that you always did.
Hammering me with phone calls, texts and downloads.