Meet you downstairs in the bar and heard Your rolled up sleeves and your skull t-shirt You say, what did you do with her today? And sniffed me out like I was Stankaray Cause I'm your fella, your guy Oh, hand me your Stella and fly By the time I'm out the door You tear them down like Roger Moore I treated myself like I knew I would And I told you I was trouble You know that I'm no good Upstairs in bed with my ex-toy She's in a place but I can't get joy But thinking on you in the final throes And this is when my buzzer goes Run up to meet your chips and bitter You say, when we're married cause you're not bitter There'll be none of her no more I cried for you on the kitchen floor I treated myself like I knew I would And I told you I was trouble You know that I'm no good Sweet reunion, Jamaica and Spain We're like how we were again I'm in the tub, you're on the seat Lick your lips as I soak my feet Then you notice little carpet burns My stomach drops and my guts turn You shrug and it's the worst Who truly stuck the knife in first I treated myself like I knew I would And I told you I was trouble You know that I'm no good I told you I was trouble You know that I'm no good You know that I'm no, no good