I fan my cards of credit on the bar.
My taste is quite specific, when I prey--
I've C-notes flashing, and a Bentley car
will be your ride, doll; it's your lucky day.
You're drawn to me, for riches twitch your nose.
Perhaps, I am a killer, or a freak,
but you are seeking treasure, eyes to toes,
not keying to my thoughts and how they reek.
Yes, lover's lane …you'll make your lustful move,
and thrust I will with fervor; you'll be shocked.
Your plan for me a hot hypnotic groove;
But feel my knife, SURPRISE, all doors are locked.
It's true I'm rich, but monies I shall keep--
and you, poor dear, I'll toss from lover's leap.
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