| Lyric | Song |
| I wanna hold them like they do in Texas please | |
| Hey there sugar baby, saw you twice at the pop show | |
| He ate my heart, he ate ate ate my heart | |
| Some girls won't dance to the beat of the track | |
| Damn, I love the Jag, the jet, and the mansion | |
| Hello hello baby, you called, I can't hear a thing | |
| I can't help myself, I'm addicted to a life of material | |
| I love that lavender blonde | |
| Don't want your money, just want your sex | |
| I've had a little bit too much | |
| Let's have some fun, this beat is sick | |
| I can't believe what you said to me | |
| We are the crowd, we're c-coming out | |
| Boy we've had a real good time | |
| We've got a red light, pornographic dance fight | |
| Groove, slam, work it back, filter that, baby bump that track | |
| Midnight rush with a pen in my hand | |
| In your [TITLE], walked away. In your [TITLE], couldn't stay | |
| Your love is nothing I can't fight | |
| Nowhere, yeah we're going nowhere fast | |
| She's got both hands in her pocket | |
| (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh caught in a [TITLE]) Rah rah ah ah ah, Roma ro ma ma, Gaga, ooh la la | |