Tattoos in Mayberry

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I don't know why,
she makes me feel so good,
Hurts me real fine,
with them sheep dipped cigarettes,
Boone's Farm bottles of wine.
I've tried to quit her yes, I do.
But,all I get is a junkie's flu...

I've looked up in the sky,
and wondered why, why why,
She done me dog dirty in the hood,
like  I knew she would.

Still, she's one fine hooky hooky hookup.
She got me all shooky, shooky, shook up.
She's a hot cookie, cookie, cookup.
She's my li'l crackhead hooker.
Cookie  lookie hookup.
She'll take you along
on her short ride.
Smoke up all your money,
run off with your pride.
Rip all reason from your mind.
She's a wizard at robbin' bad boys blind.
The best in the business tried
turning her tide.
Dope man puppet master
pulls her strings 
Holds the skeleton key
to pluck her wings.
Base ain't free,
but, it makes her sing.
Her body's ripe
low ridin the pipe,
paradise lost,
lust for sale,
at half the cost
crackhead hooker.

All rights reserved as is by author

Buddy Bee Anthony


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Crackhead Hooker