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Let's say you told me I had to write a song right this second.

I would write one with a really long, unwieldy title. It would be called "Sitting at a Stoplight, Suddenly Finding Myself On the Receiving End of Three Flirting Mexican Twenty-Somethings Jammed into the Backseat of the Buick in Front of Me."

And it would certainly include a verse about how the driver wouldn't allow me to pass and then another verse about how this gradually affected my comfort level.

Posted by x amount on February 8, 2006 1:58 PM |

Comments

I beleive the chrorus goes something like this:

Ohh Boy you looking like you like what you see
Won't you come over check up on it, I'm gone let you work up on it
Ladies let em check up on it, watch it while he check up on it
Dip it, pop it, twork it, stop it, check on me tonight

Posted by: shillak | February 8, 2006 2:41 PM

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