Tom Houlton - Miss You lyrics

[Hook: Mick Jagger] I've been holding out so long; I've seen sleeping all alone Lord, I miss you I've been hanging on the phone; I've been sleeping all alone I won't kiss you [Verse 1: In2ition] 'Everybody listen up, everyone best believe In2ition spitting wealth. No, not to please Just for himself: yes, his fans seem to be sh**ting over themselves; they know his mental health Is getting worse, steadily; day-by-day Getting nearer to a hearse cause of sh**, you see But let's let him explain what's cause I'm the pain Okay?' Okay My girl's cursed; it seems to be the worst thing going on with me I see guys falling over their chicks; they slip Hoping they'll s** their dicks. They're pricks, I ignore all of it My girl's just a piece of sh** Wonder what she'll say when she calls me next Probably pondering whether to ask me for s** Get me into her crib and push her up into her bed Bite off her underwear and tie her up onto it instead Lord, please just declare: is this the best thing for me? I don't want her to flare up: give me the third-degree So is there a way I could just give up f**ing easily? I used to think this girl was the one for me Cause she was so into me But she momentarily uses her perfect p**y to push me Makes me do thinks that I don't normally And it's starting to get too freakishly freaky The other night she got me dressed up like Goofy The ropes were tight and she caressed me with toffee Next she said she might do fantasy incest if that pleases me She don't seem to see how much it upsets me Statistically, the strange s** has got me all textbook stressed She used to make me feel blessed Now I feel depressed and I confess, I guess she was possessed Even before I first put my hand up on her chest To touch her breast. But I still caress that and the rest She made me feel like I was the best, but this chick's just a mess She needs a test before she slits her wrist Though her d**h will be best for the rest [Beatdown: Mick Jagger] I've been walking Central Park, singing after dark People think I'm crazy I've been stumbling on my feet; shuffling through the street People ask me 'What's the matter with you, boy?' [Verse 2: In2ition] 'What's the matter with you, boy? Answer me I know you're only eight but I need an answer, please' Aw, you're as useless as her answer machine Get the f** outta' here before I get my machete f** it; I'm as drunk as Charlie Sheen I feel like my brain needs a shiny clean We could make it gleam; it seems to have been Four months now and there's still no sign. I want her back: she's mine But it all went up in smoke and she won't take a toke She'll be fine; greatness is just sublime Aw f** it; I need a line Or to drink enough wine to go climb on a shrine Leap for my life and disable my spine I would rather die than sit here and whine Get tangled up in my mind's vines. Maybe I'm going insane Mind you, I don't think my mind would mind [Fade-out begins] I think I need to take up some prime time Yeah, or maybe get back to crime, or get back to crying Whichever crosses by first in this roll of life Meanwhile, I'll sit idly by; making sure I mind my own My-my and say bye-zee-bye to the f**ers who looked me in the eye