I pick the low hanging fruits
So ripe
So mushy and easy
I make em lose their mind
I wouldn't mind to come down for a taste
Could I eat that cherry tonight?
So cut me, hold me, smash, I'm bleeding juice
Only for your cup and no other, Baby now
In the middle of the whipped cream
These fruit salad dreams caught a rye
The milk had gotten sour
And all the people started to cry
You're not the only one
Looking to get back in control
You're not the only one
Stuck in a fruit presser's sticky holes
You're not the only one
Who took a taste and was led to believe
That they're the only one
I have an eye for the goods
So fine!
And that tushy is teasy
Make me lose my self control
I wouldn't mind to come down for a taste
Could I eat that cherry tonight?
So cut me, hold me smash, I'm bleeding juice
Only for your cup and no other, Baby now
In the middle of the whipped cream
These fruit salad dreams caught a rye
The milk had gotten sour
And all the people started to cry
In the middle of the whipped cream
These fruit salad dreams caught a rye
The milk had gotten sour
And all the people started to cry