We like boys, we like cars
We like looking like we stars
We so fly, we so far
We leave that other shit at Mars
All my chicks, with your hips
Make them heads flick flick
Make the camera man ignore the rest and click click
All all these dirty nasty girls
Give us dirty nasty looks
Push me over trying to run to the spotlight
Got got her hooker heels on
got acrylics diamond thong
I can look the same
Now what she had on last night
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Louboutin Louboutin
All the red you painted on
I can tell, fake Chanel
We can see that double L
On the floor, she's a whore
Shirt so tight it's just a bra
Bending over for the world to see your coin slot
In in the back seat of the car
Getting kicked out of the bar
Throwing up all on your best friend's new purse
Girl girl you thought he loves you now
Cuz he bought a couple of rounds
When he left your house he didn't leave his number
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
I'm not the kind of girl getting dressed in the dark
I've got a mirror in my purse and a fog on my arm
I'll be exclusive for my Gucci, but a whore for Dior
It's not the labels or the tables, but how we got it all
No this ain't fashion week
I can let my clothes and my actions speak
Straw Carabella and my coat Margiela
Don't look at the weather
Just whether I see my face on TV
next time maybe
Girls cold their eye cuz they so mad
I could look fresh in a potato sack
Tell me what kind of chapeau is that
Que c'est sa vie?
How they say in France
when I'm walking past
Shirt so hot, shoes so hot
Talk to me babe, show me what you got
Walk for me babe, show me what you got
That shirt so hot, shoes so hot
Talk to me babe, show me what you got
Walk for me babe, show me what you got
Show me what you got got got
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Natalia Kills - Hot Mess Lyrics
Natalia Kills - Hot Mess Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We like boys, we like cars
We like looking like we stars
We so fly, we so far
We leave that other shit at Mars
All my chicks, with your hips
Make them heads flick flick
Make the camera man ignore the rest and click click
All all these dirty nasty girls
Give us dirty nasty looks
Push me over trying to run to the spotlight
Got got her hooker heels on
got acrylics diamond thong
I can look the same
Now what she had on last night
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Louboutin Louboutin
All the red you painted on
I can tell, fake Chanel
We can see that double L
On the floor, she's a whore
Shirt so tight it's just a bra
Bending over for the world to see your coin slot
In in the back seat of the car
Getting kicked out of the bar
Throwing up all on your best friend's new purse
Girl girl you thought he loves you now
Cuz he bought a couple of rounds
When he left your house he didn't leave his number
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
I'm not the kind of girl getting dressed in the dark
I've got a mirror in my purse and a fog on my arm
I'll be exclusive for my Gucci, but a whore for Dior
It's not the labels or the tables, but how we got it all
No this ain't fashion week
I can let my clothes and my actions speak
Straw Carabella and my coat Margiela
Don't look at the weather
Just whether I see my face on TV
next time maybe
Girls cold their eye cuz they so mad
I could look fresh in a potato sack
Tell me what kind of chapeau is that
Que c'est sa vie?
How they say in France
when I'm walking past
Shirt so hot, shoes so hot
Talk to me babe, show me what you got
Walk for me babe, show me what you got
That shirt so hot, shoes so hot
Talk to me babe, show me what you got
Walk for me babe, show me what you got
Show me what you got got got
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
We like looking like we stars
We so fly, we so far
We leave that other shit at Mars
All my chicks, with your hips
Make them heads flick flick
Make the camera man ignore the rest and click click
All all these dirty nasty girls
Give us dirty nasty looks
Push me over trying to run to the spotlight
Got got her hooker heels on
got acrylics diamond thong
I can look the same
Now what she had on last night
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Louboutin Louboutin
All the red you painted on
I can tell, fake Chanel
We can see that double L
On the floor, she's a whore
Shirt so tight it's just a bra
Bending over for the world to see your coin slot
In in the back seat of the car
Getting kicked out of the bar
Throwing up all on your best friend's new purse
Girl girl you thought he loves you now
Cuz he bought a couple of rounds
When he left your house he didn't leave his number
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
I'm not the kind of girl getting dressed in the dark
I've got a mirror in my purse and a fog on my arm
I'll be exclusive for my Gucci, but a whore for Dior
It's not the labels or the tables, but how we got it all
No this ain't fashion week
I can let my clothes and my actions speak
Straw Carabella and my coat Margiela
Don't look at the weather
Just whether I see my face on TV
next time maybe
Girls cold their eye cuz they so mad
I could look fresh in a potato sack
Tell me what kind of chapeau is that
Que c'est sa vie?
How they say in France
when I'm walking past
Shirt so hot, shoes so hot
Talk to me babe, show me what you got
Walk for me babe, show me what you got
That shirt so hot, shoes so hot
Talk to me babe, show me what you got
Walk for me babe, show me what you got
Show me what you got got got
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness
Hot mess, hot hot mess
She's a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness