Pumpkin Spice

She was raised in regression, her future controlled by the past Poor thing She'll never love me as much as she loves her pumpkin spice With two shots of espresso, she shot down my shots twice How can she look so hot yet act so cold? Perfume is syrupy sugar, I can almost taste it She hates anything black but likes to keep her taste basic I don't stand a chance, yes, this I know She'll throw a tantrum if she doesn't get her hands on one Plucked straight from the cover of a magazine Drink up, drink up, you silly little thing, you Bring up, bring up all the things you hate about me Tell me, tell me what you love about that hot pot I know, I know I'm not your cup of coffee And you told me to choke on a bit of ideal modernity And I told you I know, I know I'm not your cup of coffee Her tongue is sharp, sharp, sharp, filed down by prejudice It's not fully her fault, her father can be credited Said if she brings a bitter home, he'll beat her ass There's a spot out back for people just like me Painted with blood-stained graffiti oh so frightening I'm actually kinda glad she doesn't want to bring me home She'll throw a tantrum if she doesn't get her hands on one Plucked straight from the cover of a magazine (One, two, three, go!) Drink up, drink up, you silly little thing, you Bring up, bring up all the things you hate about me Tell me, tell me what you love about that hot pot I know, I know I'm not your cup of coffee And you told me to choke on a bit of ideal modernity And I told you I know, I know I'm not your cup of coffee I know, I know I'm not your cup of coffee I know, I know I'm not your cup of coffee I know, I know I'm not your cup of coffee I know, I know I'm not your cup of coffee