Well, you come in your cream Cadillac
In the alley of cool cats
Pretty pal pay up for your loud mouth
Your rich clothes make no sense anymore
I don't know what you want from the scores
If it's the talk
Really, don't come ******* to me no mo'
You ain't calling the shots these days
Oh yell from the thunderdome

Well, then you didn't have be so frigid back then
Like the drinks in your white limousine
You're swaying down the street
With your pale blue eyes
Well, you're rolling in the deep
Praying for a new disguise