All the "bad boys" want some brawl, it's tricky
And girls enjoy, they feel so lucky
Laughing at weeds running out the door,
Calling their mom when they lick the floor
(Look how)
Those funky monkeys talk and walk in store
They're lost, sad and brawny like an apple core
Who can believe that there will be some gore
With those wimps like I said before
"Bad boys" are not so picky
They ride away and feel so happy
To fight for girls they (do) adore
Snorting like boars rolling on the floor
With their leather jacket and their rocky voice
They hit, fight, kick, wreak havoc and rejoice
Nobody knows what they are looking for
A kind of battle axe or maybe more
When a bad boy tramp sounds its' freaky
Cause you're afraid, remember he's lanky
Don't rate him even he gets sore
Cross the river and roam the shore
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