Mall Girl Lyrics – Sylvia Baudelaire
Singer: Sylvia Baudelaire
Title: Mall Girl
They say i smell like kinderwh#re
6 inch heel down the hall
In denim skirt i’m showing off
When they bark i’m flipping them off
b#tches wanna get in the zone
They can’t get on my level
I’m pretty so i use it all
Money comes when i turn men on
His wife’s gone when i babysit
He comes over hard like a brick
He loves to taste my red lipstick
I leave it on his huge fat dick
Slaps my ass, he likes it thick
Nasty daddy, banana split!
I spend his cash on pricey sh#t
He always brings me lotta gifts
I’m a mall girl
I’m struttin’ my way to the top
I’m a mall girl
Money is what i love
I’m a mall girl
Queen of this f#cking club
I’m a mall girl
Gimmie another shot
You know i’m a vixen, sucker
You’re just a lil pervert m#th*rf#ck*r
They say i’m a beautiful wreck
Gold chains drippin’ down my neck
And i don’t give a single f#ck
They can’t stop talking ’bout my racks
Baby don’t worry ’bout me
I don’t care about you
Lemme do my own thing
You’re nobody to me boo
His wife’s gone when i babysit
He comes over hard like a brick
I spend his cash on pricey sh#t
He always brings me lotta gifts
I’m a mall girl
I’m struttin’ my way to the top
I’m a mall girl
Money is what i love
I’m a mall girl
Queen of this f#cking club
I’m a mall girl
Gimmie another shot
I’m a mall girl
I’m struttin’ my way to the top
I’m a mall girl
Money is what i love
I’m a mall girl
Queen of this f#cking club
I’m a mall girl
Gimmie another shot
I’m a mall girl
Motherf#cking mall girl
I’m a mall girl
Motherf#cking mall girl
I’m a mall girl
Motherf#cking mall girl
I’m a mall girl
Motherf#cking mall girl
They say i smell like kinderwh#re
6 inch heel down the hall
In denim skirt i’m showing off
When they bark i’m flipping them off
b#tches wanna get in the zone
They can’t get on my level
I’m pretty so i use it all
Money comes when i turn men on
They say i’m a beautiful wreck
Gold chains drippin’ down my neck
And i don’t give a single f#ck
They can’t stop talking ’bout my racks
Baby don’t worry ’bout me
I don’t care about you
Lemme do my own thing
You’re nobody to me boo
I spend his cash on pricey sh#t
He always brings me lotta gifts
I’m a mall girl
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Lyrics Sylvia Baudelaire – Mall Girl
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