Leather on thigh
You make me flip, baby
I seen your letters
You sure let me know
They're written with spit
Whoa, every time
You make me flip, get up and go
I seen your letters
You got it, I want it
You're just a fink for the man
But baby, you flipped
And you're Fink for that man
Hanging 'round your neck
I wish, it was me
So baby, so sweet
You're buying us
Jet black hair
Oh, we could be just the best
You're just a fink for the man
But you don't give a damn
The midnight riders
A big bag of trouble baby
They're written with spit
You're taking care of business
You don't give a damn
