Teksty: Bree Sharp. More B.S.. Dirty Magazine.

I left home at the age of thirteen
With a fistful of cash and a dirty magazine
Now, I never cared for the things that I seen
I just want to be in a dirty magazine

Everyone makes sacrifices
Everybody's got their vices

Some girls got class and some girls got dreams
Some girls as sweet as a ripe nectarine
Well, I got no big plans and I ain't no beauty queen
I just want to be in a dirty magazine

Can you speak of my disgraces?
Look at all the smiling faces

I've been in a gutter, been in a latrine
I've been in the back of a black limousine
I've been just about everywhere in between
And if I had the choice to live dirty or clean

I tell you I'd live in a dirty magazine
Yes, sir, I would live in a dirty magazine
A dirty magazine, a dirty magazine