But I had never known love at first sting.
That is, until I met you, girl.
You and your super sexy ski mask.
Girl, that first time you snuck up behind me
at the ATM and whispered: "Give me all your
money, sweetie." I knew you were for real.
Nobody had ever called me 'sweetie' before.
Plus, that was one of the rare days wherein
my bank balance was in the positive, so I knew
you had to be casing me for weeks--that's love.
And the way you took off on my 20-year-old
BMX bike with no gear chain, that was hot!
Girl, the way you held up the gas station that
I worked at and whispered: "Keep the change, baby."
That shit was straight out of a classic heist movie.
All the local thugs were impressed, let me tell you.
Plus, that being the exact day I was going to quit,
that just made walking off the job so much easier.
And the way you took your time to refill your three
extra large Slurpee cups on the way out the door,
I said this ski mask girl has her priorities straight!
Girl, the way you broke into my apartment last week
as if you thought I had drugs hidden somewhere.
Well, I had no idea you thought so highly of me.
And the way you left a note on my pillow that read:
"I told Big Louie you beat me so you better pay up,"
that right there almost made me go and get a temp job.
Girl, the way you rock that ski mask in my bedroom
window when you think I'm asleep at night is so smooth.
There's something so criminally suave about your style,
but I can't help thinking that maybe you could find
a more conventional way of getting my phone number.