They Ain’t Marrying Me

Written by Douglas Firestein & Gloria Firestein

Some men drive a fancy car
Like to wear designer clothes
They call me the secret write-off
At least as far as the IRS knows

If only their wives were aware
This bitch was roasting their beef
With my patented system of love
I make men crumble like a leaf

BED ‘EM
Yeah, I lay them down
SPREAD ‘EM
Like I’ve been around
LET ‘EM
Do what just they need
They might love my body
But they ain’t marrying me

Some men work nine to five
Then give me thirty minutes
It doesn’t usually take much time
I know how to make them finish

If only their wives were there
To watch and take some notes
I might even let them join in too
There’s plenty of me to love

BED ‘EM
Yeah, I lay them down
SPREAD ‘EM
Like I’ve been around
LET ‘EM
Do what just they need
They might love my body
But they ain’t marrying me

They might love my body
But they ain’t marrying me
No they ain’t!
(Marrying)
I said they ain’t!
(Marrying)
No they ain’t marrying me!

(They aint)
(They aint)
(they aint marrying me)
(They aint)
(They aint)
(they aint marrying me)