That painted lady. That satin doll. That lazy shady walk that makes her look like a moll. Dressed up in diamonds. She won't take no less. Guess someone must have poured her into that dress. Chorus. She's got the lot what she's got's all her own. She's got so much that she can leave some at home. She won't come in unless she knows she's invited. Her feel her smell her touch just gets me oh so excited. That wild aroma. Paris perfume. It just takes over when she walks in the room. Won't get neglected. She don't get no chance. Don't feel rejected if she refuses to dance. Chorus. She's got the lot and what she's got's all her own. She's got so much that she can leave some at home. She won't come in unless she knows she's invited. Her feel her smell her touch just gets me oh so excited. Break. That chic cheeky lady. She's gonna get what she picks. She can wear you out and she can milk you dry with them tricks. That wiley styley lady. With sophisticated quips. She can eat you up and she can spit you out with them lips. Chorus. She's got the lot what she's got's all her own. She's got so much that she can leave some at home. She won't come in unless she knows she's invited. Her feel her smell her touch just gets me oh so excited