Song Length |
2:59 |
Genre |
Country - General |
Tempo |
Medium Fast (131 - 150) |
Lead Vocal |
Female Vocal |
Lyrics
I can barely see thru
The fog on this window
From us girls spying on
The construction crew dude
Oh now his shirt?s off
Our hearts melt
Cuz sweat?s rolling down his bicep ?n they think
He?s so cool, but just the opposite
Like the sun beatin down on the Arizona blacktop
A Rolex in a Vegas pawn shop
Like black leather seats in a red Maserati
He?s a four-alarm chili at the firehouse picnic
He?s the spark that flicks my Bic
Yea, he beams me up Scottie,
He?s a hottie
The heat was too much
Had to open the windows
I leaned out the edge
And let a cat call fly
I said ?Excuse me,
Are you single?
Do you wanna get married?
He shook his head and smiled, but it was worth a shot
Like tabasco dripping on a jalapeno popper
He?s a certified chick-jaw-dropper
With a Coppertone tan on a Chippendale body
He?s a T-bone sizzlin on my hibachi
I?ll be his Joanie if he?ll be my ChaChi
Mama mia, he melts my gelati