Hot Sh!t

You think you're hot shit You make me nauseous You think you're hot shit You make me nauseous I hope them lips you bought You're putting them to good use I hope that ring I bought You traded it for more shoes You're like an auction Whoever buys you can use And why you talking This ain't a song about blues You think you're hot shit You make me nauseous You think you're hot shit You make me nauseous I must've lost my mind I know that something ain't right And I ain't in a bind But I should've known this that night I hope you notice tonight You got me sick to my stomach And if I see you, I'm running In my big truck, I'm gunning You think you're hot shit You make me nauseous You think you're hot shit You make me nauseous And I hope them lips you bought You're putting them to good use And I hope that ring I bought You traded it for more shoes You're like an auction Whoever buys you can use And why you talking This ain't a song about blues You think you're hot shit You make me nauseous You think you're hot shit You make me nauseous You think you're hot shit You make me nauseous You think you're hot shit