White Stripes
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It's My Fault For Being Famous

White Stripes


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

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