"I like a girl with caked up makeup. In the sunshine, smoking cigarettes to pass the time. Who wakes up to a bottle of wine on the nightstand, bites and scratches the blinds.

Her apartment best be messy, Alisa don't mind when I call her Leslie.

She's gotta dress with class and Jean Paul Gaultier and a Hermes bag. And four inch tips made of ostrich. Sharp enough to slit your wrists, her lips spread gossip.

Won't say sorry when she offends, she comes over to my place in her old man's Benz. In gold and silver and jewels of all colors, and she doesn't take them off when we're tearing up the covers.

I like a girl who eats and brings it up, a sassy little frassy with bulimia. Her best friend's a plastic surgeon, and when her beamer's in the shop she rolls the Benz.

Manis and pedis on Sundays and Wednesdays, money from mommy, lovely in Versace. Costly sprees, it's on at Barney's, and I love to watch her go through fifty g's calmly.

She gets naught with her pilates body and thinks it's really funny when her nose goes bloody. Cause the blow is so yummy and it keeps her tummy empty and makes her act more friendly.

Dance the night away, and she won't say nothing when she makes your man stray."

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photos by Dustin Genereux