She sold me, for just a couple of hundred grants
I was sold and realized later I, a useless, got a price!
She sold me for a pile of Benjamin that wasn’t hers
And she lived in a bungalow, at St. Petersburg Ile
On the Benz, classic 80’s Mc Loren and Fender she rocked
And on his cemetery, she yield a cactus hooked round his head
Never find death scary, scary like hooks round your head
But when you die you ain’t got respect for classic ballad of Rock
And when I write these songs I write with hooks down the spines
And when I sing, I sing with blood...