[Instrumental] Real women need beats and guitars. The bass hits harder than a lover’s heart. Sweat glows under flashing lights, Bodies grind through endless nights. The speed is intoxicating — tongues taste the rhythm, hips preach salvation, and every move is pure damnation. Chests vibrate and crotches pulsate, a sweet collision of lust and fate. Moist lips whisper dirty prayers, while hands explore forbidden layers. When we ride into ecstasy — the world is fucked! The fucking world is fucked! And we moan it like a gospel in the dark. Who cares? Real women love. Real women take. Real women burn. With no apology to make. Shout it to the world — before it goes under! Scream it to the world — before we surrender! Our bodies are truth, our breath is divine, and every beat says: This flesh is mine. (Moist lips... Moist lips... Moist red lips...) Chests vibrate and crotches pulsate, Touch! my! wet lips! a sweet collision of lust and fate. [Instrumental] Real women don’t fade in the neon glare. They own the night — wild, raw, aware. Hearts sync with the kick, souls ignite, and pleasure becomes our right. ✦ Live!... Live!... Live!... When you feel... When you feel — liberate yourself. Live while your self exists. Because to live is the loudest act of love... and Lust!
