Don't cut your hair
Don't cut your hair
Don't cut your hair, don't cut your hair
Don't cut your hair, whatever you do!
From Impanema to the Copacabana
Woh, the monkeys (?) their asses for a piece of banana
Pornstars, playboys, they're all after the money
But ya never got a taste of baby (?) love ya honey
Oh don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't-don't
Don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't, yeah!
Whatever you do!
Beefsteak, clothes in a box of erasers
Oooh, they love the dirty paper with the ugly faces
If I could see you in your glory baby, even for a minute
I'll give up my shelter and everything that's in it
Oh don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't-don't
Don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't-don't
Don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't, yeah!
Don't cut it, don't chop it
It's like the bomb if you got it don't drop it
If you got a man then go ahead and flaunt it
Any guy is lying if he says he doesn't want it
Any guy is lying if he says he doesn't want it
Yeah!
Eeee-yeee!
From Miami to the Sunset Strip
All the guys...
Though you look like a girl (?, ?) from afar
Close that curtain mama doesn't know what you are
Oh don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't-don't
Don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't ya, don't-don't
Don't cut your hair
Don't cut your hair
Don't cut your hair
Whatever you do!
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
