I’ve got your number. I’ll catch your tiger by the toe, you’re gonna be my sugar-mama baby beggin me for more.
I’ve got your number. And I’ll just tell you so, you’re gonna be my little rag-doll like a sixties G.I. Joe.
You can’t fight it. Take off the boxing gloves. You’ll be higher than a kite just like a junkie on his drugs.
I know you want it. You know you want it too. I might beg and steal and cheat you but I’ll always tell the truth.
I’m gonna hold you, ‘til the night becomes the dawn and then I’ll coach you on just what you’ve been doing wrong.
I’m gonna be the perfect man that you’ve got in your head, I’m gonna be that perfect man when you take me to bed.