CAN’T CALL HIM A K!NG

Comatose, smoking, rock hard in his flip-flops
Your man's lips locked while you're at home knocked
It's kind of a regular thing at night and I hear my phone ring
And who could it be? A delusional whore's king
But I can't call him a king, right? If his throne is my dick, like
Is he really a man if I'm inside him again?
He's certainly not yours, collared on all fours
And did you buy his cologne? It's making me wanna bone
He used to be so tight when I laid him down
But now he's kind of a slut, begs one more round
And then I tell him to go, I see him start to frown
You probably get that a lot, especially when he goes down
How ugly do you feel when you see him cringe
At the sight of your breasts? And then he sticks his tongue in
And you pretend to moan to make him feel like a man
But your body is still, you've done all that you can
And he sticks it out when you tell him stick it in
He thinks your pussy is gross, haha, I'm just saying
He says goodbye and you kiss him goodnight
Keys in his left hand, texting with his right
I feel my phone vibrate inside my jeans
And so I take them off because he likes a tease
I open up a drawer and get the vaseline
And a blanket so he doesn't burn his knees
And then he's at my door and then he's in my room
And then he's on my bed and I'll be on him soon
Face down suffocating, he's kind of cute
My tongue between his legs, he turns to red from blue
He bites his pillow tight 'cause I eat him right
He moans like you did when you're alone at night
And then he feels my dick on the back of his thigh
He begs me to fuck him quick and I tell him that I might
And that he's just a slut and then he sort of cries
And then I start to fuck, he gets cold and sighs
And when I'm ready to nut, I put him on his back
And cum on his face so he knows he's mine