Trouble Lyrics - Princess Superstar Is - Princess Superstar

Hold your breath when you see me walking by 

I'm obsessed with movies, Barbed Wire, throw a stiletto in ya eye 

I confess, I'm like Jesse James in an Ames parking lot 

Have humorous fun, pulling numerous guns on consumers, run 

Your man-freaked that, I told John, Get back 

Broke your 8Track, A-Dats stole your Kit Kats 

Grab your fanny pack and gagged you 

With a six, pack a six White Castle sack 

Drip wax in your office fax 

Changed a few facts in your contract 

Your advance is axed and 

A & R is gonna write all ya new tracks 

I'm on the dole with mad loot selling bootlegs of poor artists 

Got two legs to work but I beg for change to drink Bacardis 

Hearty meals got these Hardy Boys hard 

Then taught Nancy Drew and her dog 

How to jerk off and how to steal from drug dealers 

Ahh, enough of this I killed Snuffalufagus 

With pills and made a snuff film 

To prove to Big Bird he exists, see he is real 

I'm, ill can't deal with mere mortals 

Got a portal in my knee to beam me 

To a balance beam but I just drank 3 Jim Beams 

My Olympic team is gonna scream at me, is it my turn? 

I gotta pee, I'm 14 but haven't grown since I was three 

Get my kicks feeding drinks to kids in rehab clinks 

Minx took Pink to my sink and used her hair die to die my minks 

Tattoo inks with Ajax, I hijacked Pat Sajak 

Sent him back to Wheel of Fortune 

With a bad limp and a crack habit 

Silly rabbit this song is for kids 

The way the messed up system is 

If I was a black man, I'd be up on a 8 year bid 

I'd ego, you know, I wish I owned those 

But I sold 'em to buy nice speakers 

What kind? Bose 

Trouble, we like it like that 

Trouble capital T stands for me 

Punching ya tummy, cover you with honey and ants 

Fatal Attraction, boil a bunny while I break dance 

Fart in my hot pants in a crowded theater at Sundance 

Must have been the hot ranch 

So let's dance because I killed 

Bowie's wife with a bowie knife 

C'mon Mon, it was Iman and man 

Bowie's my man gimme one more night 

I just upchucked my pills and Tom Collins 

On Phil Collins, I mean Phil it was just a spill-chill 

Bad upbringing, I made Jerry's kids phone stop ringing 

I'm only kidding with this sick singing 

I'm just giving what this track's bringing 

Trouble, I'm not subtle I need more air 

So I popped that kid and stole his bubble 

Stuck him in some double Tupperware 

A clean death inject ya with Crest and crystal meth 

Obsessed with my own breasts 

Won't look at you so don't get undressed for sex 

I guess, I'm on a rampage for underage idols 

Did Malcolm's bro in the middle and little Kenny with subtitles 

I strike quick like the emperor not the right temperature and 

I think it's too easy to make fun of 98 Degrees 

And now that you mention it Britney, Christina and N'sync 

Why even bother, we'll all be gone by next week 

Trouble, we like it like that 

Trouble, we like it like that 

Trouble, we like it like that 

Trouble, we like it like that