Hot Mess lyrics - Natalia Kills

See the full Hot Mess lyrics from Natalia Kills. Hot Mess lyrics belongs on the album Not classified. Learn every word of your favourite song and get the meaning or start your own concert tonight :-). Rate this song's lyrics. Uploaded by Ok Rennie. Use it for personal and educational purposes only. Listen to these sick beats by Natalia Kills.

Song Hot Mess video
Natalia Kills - Hot Mess video

Hot Mess lyrics

We like boys, we like cars
We like looking like we stars
We so fly, we so far
We leave that mothership in Mars

All my chicks, with your hips
Make them heads flick flick
Make the camera man ignore the rest and click click

All all these dirty nasty girls
Give us dirty nasty looks
Push me over trying to run to the spotlight

Got got her hooker heels on
got acrylics diamond thong
I can look the same
Now what she had on last night

Hot mess, hot hot mess
She’s a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness

Hot mess, hot hot mess
She’s a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness

Louboutin Louboutin
All the red you painted on
I can tell, fake Chanel
We can see that double L

On the floor, she’s a whore
Shirt so tight it’s just a bra
Bending over for the world to see your coin slot

In in the back seat of the car
Getting kicked out of the bar
Throwing up all on your best friend’s new purse

Girl girl you thought he loves you now
Cuz he bought a couple of rounds
When he left your house he didn’t leave his number

Hot mess, hot hot mess
She’s a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness

Hot mess, hot hot mess
She’s a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness

I’m not the kind of girl getting dressed in the dark
I’ve got a mirror in my purse and a fog on my arm
I’ll be exclusive for my Gucci, but a whore for Dior
It’s not the labels or the tables, but how we got it all

No this ain’t fashion week
I can let my clothe and my actions speak
Straw Carabella and my coat Margiela
Don’t look at the weather
Just whether I see my face on TV
next time maybe

Girls cold their eye cuz they so mad
I could look fresh in a potato sack
Tell me what kind of chapeau is that
Que c’est sa vie?
How they say in France
when I’m walking past

Shirt so hot, shoes so hot
Talk to me babe, show me what you got
Walk for me babe, show me what you got

That shirt so hot, shoes so hot
Talk to me babe, show me what you got
Walk for me babe, show me what you got
Show me what you got got got

Hot mess, hot hot mess
She’s a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness

Hot mess, hot hot mess
She’s a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness

Hot mess, hot hot mess
She’s a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness

Hot mess, hot hot mess
She’s a hot mess
Hot mess, hot hot hot mess
Jocking on my hotness

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