She stuck a cell phone camera right into my face With a flick of my wrist I filled her nose fulla mace The cops wanted to know what was wrong with me Didn't give me a chance to explain it, see
It ain't her fault for bein careless It ain't her fault for bein brainless It ain't her fault for bein hopeless But it's my fault for bein famous
I'm at the LAX just a-checkin my bag When up comes a little paparazzi scumbag I took a laptop slapped him up the side his head The cops wanted to know why I left him for dead
It ain't his fault for bein nameless It ain't his fault for bein thoughtless It ain't his thought for bein shameless But it's my fault for bein famous (Let her go, boy)
I had a sweet old lady walk up to me Wanted to get a photograph for her grandson to see And as the digital camera lit up the place She unloaded a chrome 45 in my face
But it ain't her fault for bein ruthless Ain't her fault for bein toothless Ain't her fault for bein blameless But it's my fault for bein famous
(Ah, one more, we can get it better than that, honey)
Compositor: John Anthony White (BMI)Editores: Peppermint Stripe Music (BMI), Songs Of Universal Inc (BMI)ECAD verificado obra #16239009 em 21/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM