"U.B.C.L." as written by Peter Wade Keusch and Amanda Lucille Warner....
C-L-U-B

Faux fur on my bed, we’re moving slowly
Fill my glass, take it down, turn off that movie
Paint me gold, you can have my silver jewelry
Keep my sunglasses on, those colors move me

C-L-U-B

Falling down a straight line onto the dance floor
Filter sweep shakes my bones, give my bass more
Turn it up, get me off, I had it my way
DJ loop this shh up until the break of day

Why don’t you come along
Spinning backwards all night long
This rhythm moves along
Why not get emotional
You can come along
Grab my hand and we’ll both get gone
Say the – to discretion
Let’s get our party on

Oh!
C-L-U-B

I know a place we can go, they got white tiger
‘Round the back, brass doors, draped in flyers
Bitter sweet, no rewind, there is no leaving
Cardboard club burning up the air we’re breathing

Why don’t you come along
Spinning backwards all night long
This rhythm moves along
Why not get emotional
You can come along
Grab my hand and we’ll both get gone
Say the – to discretion
Let’s get our party on

Oh!
C-L-U-B

Can’t walk in straight lines

Oh!
C-L-U-B


Lyrics submitted by thrwmyhrtawy.

U.B.C.L. song meanings
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