Building the perfect chick
She would have the soul of Etta James.
Or yeah Aretha, one o' them classy dames.
Or maybe she would be more pure.
Like Ella. She would be groovy, that's for sure.
She wouldn't have to have a heart of gold.
But she would be a woman on whom they broke the mold.
She'd be pretty and she would know who she was.
But she wouldn't want the cocky studs.
She wouldn't want the blatant phonies.
She would know I got the real cajones.
I'm making art out of fantasy.
But I have to be true to me.
The perfect chick would have a juicy booty.
And when she heard me say that, she wouldn't get all snooty.
The perfect chick would see that I have glamour.
Even though I stare and stammer.
The perfect chick would have intelligence and spirit.
The perfect chick will know my depth when she hears it.
I don't think there is a female that I describe.
The chicks I want just shuck and jive.
I'm tired of being sincere but alone.
I'm better than those fools you cling to though.
You chicks aren't ready for my vision.
You chicks aren't ready for long division.
I'm the dark horse but chicks are afraid to gamble.
They would rather skip the preamble.
And go for the obvious stuff.
Sincerity and depth is just too much.
I can say what I want.
No one is listening
No one gives a fuck.
