Rachel Stamp - Twisted

I got myself a brand new box of matches
I got myself a stack of dirty magazines
I don't know why they call me Anastacia?
I'm gonna torch those fuckers
You better call the Police!

Cause I'm twisted
Push me too hard, make me feel sick
I sting like a bee, but act like a dick
Yeah I'm twisted

I never wanted to be no Sergeant Major
But I just can't keep my hand to myself
You got nothing, on me copper
Nothing, on me George
Ooh gimme some wedge
Give me life, give me death 'cause I don't really care
And I'm twisted

Don't stop to think of my reputation
Don't stop to take the dirty spoons out of my mouth
Well don't stop to tell me I'm pretty
Don't stop to tell me you're bored
Just get the lead out
I'm in love I'm in love I'm in love I'm in love
And I'm twisted

Written by:
William Gordon Crewdson, Robin Guy, Shaheena Pearson, David Simon Ryder Prangley

Publisher:
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management

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