You're famous for your hips and stroll and twirl as drinkers stare.
Floozy, how you spawn temptation, posing stout and fair.
The rattle of the walls could mean the lumber's coming down.
Oh Floozy, don't shake your buns around.

A dozen dreams you've startled, you're so brazen, cravin' more.
You must be into sports, because you always try to score.
And yes, the moves that you make could be a felony.
Oh, Floozy, you should be in custody.

Your heartless love, it scams the men, incensed and terrorized.
As you flaunt and reveal what a woman should screen, Floozy, I see your thighs.
And your moan's just wrong, your skirt gets frayed, yet still you squat and bound.
Oh Floozy, don't chase the hunks you've found.

She's heaving now, her robust curves are crashing to the floor.
The sway of oak, the urge to scram, a thund'rous, vi'lent roar.
And if I could move, I'd try to run before I'm underground.
Oh Floozy, don't shake your buns around.

Oh Floozy, for gosh sakes tone it down!