Fireball

Baby don’t take cash
Baby don’t take credit
Baby takes it out
Gets ninety-odd pounds of flesh
And she puts it to work
Pixel-perfect
When she’s in my hand
Catch her in the morning
Wandering through some foreign land
She’s burning like a fireballl
She’s consuming one and all
A sight that delights and appalls me
Roaring like a hurricane
Leaving nothing quite the same
Bringing good stuff to my brain
Such a big noise in the room
She talks, she booms
(and you know it’s true)
Everybody got to get with her plan
Makes a hundred-thousand
In one single day
(you know it’s true)
That she’s right on her righteous way