They call me god's gift to women
And I think it's well-deserved
You can't question all my abilities
Until you've had your turn

There's no stopping when I'm in your head
And no time to make my bed
No fast love in the lavatory when you hook up with me

They call me god's gift to women
And I come from pedigree
You'll only find golden apples
Hanging on my family tree

Good god I can hear you humming
While you climb that mountain peak
Good god I can feel you strumming
I know what you seek
Good god I can see you rising
The pressure's building up inside your head
Good god I can feel you writhing
Cuz you're jacked like a VU meter in the red