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Bimmer
You remind me of my bimmerA lot of trunk space, the perfect two seaterAnd you got a lot of drive, I'm trying to keep upBut it's not a lot of miles on ya meterYou remind me of my bimmerSee your ignition, baby girl I'm trying to key upAnd your head lights are off, I'm trying to see 'emBut it's not a lot of miles on ya meterSo let me start it up and smashPop some Tame Impala, your man got a lame Impala(It'll get dark outside soon)And I'm sharing Slurpees and you ain't even begin to swallowYou're fucking nuts, green top we coupled upRun my fingers through em as you wax and buff my mufflerCause I fingered you, you think the fucking ring is coming up?(Where the street lights trail, OO)Maybe, I don't know, I think you're chill(Ride for)Riding on my pegs, and my back against your legsAnd a seatbelt is needed if I get between 'em, yeahMM it'll get dark outside, soon (My baby, ride for me)Where the street lights trail (My baby, ride for me)You ain't gotta lie to kick it darlingIt's cool we're moving slowYou remind me of my bimmerA lot of trunk space, the perfect two seaterYou got a lot of drive I'm trying to keep upBut it's not a lot of miles on ya meterYou remind me of my bimmer, smashYou remind me of my bimmer
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