Roses are red,
Your hair is too,
You walk in the room
And my IQ drops to two.
You’re sweeter than Skittles,
Hotter than flame,
Every cashier smiles weird
When I mention your name.
Your hair’s like a sunset
Mixed with hot sauce and sin,
And honestly, babe,
You could probably start wars with that grin.
You strut like a model,
You laugh like a meme,
You look like a fantasy
And flirt like caffeine.
If being that sexy
Was counted a crime,
You’d get life in prison…
And I’d visit all the time.