My hair!! bitch!!

------------------------------------------- [Verse 1] "Relax, babe, I’ll make it look pretty," she said, scissors flashing in her hand. "I’m the queen of colorful fantasies!" Three hours later, I look like a goat that someone barfed on from a cliff. [Pre-chorus] She chopped off way more than she should, slapped on way more dye than I asked. I walked out of there looking neon-orange, with a burning hate that’s here to stay. [Chorus] MY SO-CALLED "FRIEND" AND HER LITTLE SALON! SHE SAID SHE KNEW WHAT THE HELL SHE WAS DOING! THAT PIECE OF TRASH, LOOK AT THIS MESS! NOW I’M GONNA NEED A FREAKING WIG! (What a botched job, the dirty cow) [Verse 2] I said "pink highlights, you know my vibe," she did whatever the fuck she wanted. Left my hair fried, smelling like straight piss, then charged me "friend price"—man, screw this bitch! Left my wallet shaking on the floor... ¡Cabrona! (shouted) [Pre-chorus 2] I’ve cried in stages, in different keys, hunting for beanies, hats, MY HAIR! It’s falling out in literal clumps, rotten acid-orange grunge. (THAT’S NOT A COLOR, IT’S A SCREAM!) [Chorus] MY SO-CALLED "FRIEND" AND HER LITTLE SALON! SHE SAID SHE KNEW WHAT THE HELL SHE WAS DOING! THAT PIECE OF TRASH, LOOK AT THIS MESS! NOW I’M GONNA NEED A FREAKING WIG! [Bridge] So what do I do? Hit her with a brick? Lose a friend over a bad dye job? (A FRIEND? A...) A piece of fucking trash. [Final Chorus – shouted, half rage, half laugh] MY SO-CALLED "FRIEND" AND HER LITTLE SALON! NEXT TIME I’M DYING THIS SHIT MYSELF! SHE LEFT ME BALD ON THE INSIDE, AND ON THE OUTSIDE I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING GRAPEFRUIT! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! [Outro – spoken, phone in hand] … You're a trash hairdresser. But as a friend? You're even worse. (I'M SHAVING IT ALL OFF) [Last breath – whispered, then building] …it used to look so pretty… my pink hair… My style… my hair… Now I just HATE her. (I hate her) I hate her. I hate you, bitch!