Vogue

Some boys kiss me, some boys hug me
I think they're O.K.
If they don't give me proper credit,
I just walk away.

They can beg and they can plead,
but they can't see the light (that's right).
'Cause the boy with the cold hard cash,
is always Mister Right.

Cause we are,

Living in a material world,
and I am a material girl.
You know that we are living in a material world,
and I am a material girl.

Boys may come and boys may go,
and that's all right you see.
Experience has made me rich,
and now they're after me,
Cause everybody's,

Living in a material world,
and I am a material girl.
You know that we are living in a material world,
and I am a material girl

Material (Material)

Material (Material)

Material (Material)

All the lonely nights,
I spend alone.
Never around to love,
you're always gone.
Cause you're hangin' out,
breakin' the rules.
Oh the man has come,
looking for you.

You're a rebel now,
Don't give a damn, no.
Always carrying on,
with the gang.
I'm trying to tell you boy,
it's a mistake.
You won't realize,
til it's too late.

Don't understand
Why you insist
On ways of living such a dangerous life
Time after time
you stay away
And I just know that you're telling me lies.

Black cat, nine lives, short days, long nights,
Livin' on the edge,
not afraid to die.
Heart beat, real strong, but not for long,
Better watch your step or you're gonna die

Sittin' in the movie show,
thinkin' nasty thoughts.
Better be a gentleman,
or you'll turn me off.
That's right, lemme tell it


Nasty, nasty boys, don't mean a thing.
Oh, you nasty boys.
Nasty, nasty boys, don't ever change.
Oh, you nasty boys.

I don't like no nasty girl,
I don't like nasty food.
The only nasty thing I like,
is a nasty groove.
Will this one do?
Uh huh, I know... say...

Nasty, nasty boys,
don't mean a thing.

Oh, you nasty boys.

I'm not a prude,
I just want some respect.
So close the door if you want me to respond.
Cause privacy is my middle name,
my last name is control.
No, my first name ain't baby,
It's Britney... Scream, if you're nasty.

Nasty boys, don't mean a thing.
Oh, you nasty boys.

Hey! Who's that thinkin' nasty thoughts?
Who's that in that nasty car?
Who's that eatin' that nasty fruit?
Who's jammin' to my nasty groove?

Ladies?

Nasty boys, don't mean a thing.
Oh, you nasty boys

don't mean a thing for me.