My black dress,
To most guys, it's a hot mess.
The only thing that makes me pretty,
While I'm in the city.
Jealous girls give me glares.
Guys give me stares.
Who really cares?
They're all like bears,
Ready to attack.
When I come back,
I think about reality.
They don't love me because of my personality.
They just want my money,
And to call me honey
DE RUN DIS Community Member 
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