I come from the land of poutine
And low self-esteem
And everybody screams
When there's a goal
But what team are we cheering for
I don't know
I don't know
(The losing one of course)
I'm from up north
Born in the coldest snow
With maple trees around
No beaches, no sand
So next time you come around
With that exotic bullshit
I got that tan you like
I dance Samba
Pero no gracias
Never been to the Bahamas
Black rose in a city full of white sheeps
Was told there's something weird about me
I get it
I see it
But next time you come around
With that exotic bullshit
Just know I'm a cold hearted biche
(Real cold, real cold)
You're exotic too, eh?
Where your great-gran-grans came from
Before they stole this shit?
