The Orwells - Southern Comfort lyrics

Drink by drink, I think, I'm thinking Why don't you hang with me this evening? And I can't walk and I can't dance Give me a smile and then take off your pants Saw her eyes in the rear-view mirror Girls in the back seat, drunk on the beer Eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize I'm not that old but I'm getting pretty wise Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah Coke and rum, can I taste your tongue? Won't stop sipping till we're both numb Who's that girl in the short black skirt The bright lip gloss and the tight white shirt? Hand down my pants, hands on my gra** Got to the bottom of the bottom, but I still can't dance Like this brother with the hand full of a** Bad a** shades and a bag full of gra** Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah