High Fidelity Track 1: Blame My Ex
High Fidelity Track 1: Blame My Ex
You had my food, now you have me
I want performance, not excuses
I texted your mom to let you stay longer
Special treatment for special privileges
Apple picking and stepbro dicking
Your holes want it
Husband couldn't fill that hole
Hit that fucking high pitch note
So you never had real pussy before?
Let me guess, you want them
Will you still call me after?
I hear she's dying for two cocks at once
You can't and will not escape