People may say that I'm bad,
maybe it's because I yearn to be your habit,

                                             Because,
                                             ****, how I crave that I could be a cigarette,
                                             Packed full of nicotine,

                                             With each inhale with me against your lips,
                                             Your intoxicating lips
                                             You would slowly grow addicted,


If I'm bad,
than then let it be so,
but if I have to be bad,
let me be your bad habit, baby girl.