Let the record play,
Let the record play,
Let the record play.
Blaise watched her from across the club of dancing bodies, she sat on the stool by the juke box, flipping through till she came to a good song. She got up to dance with her friend. They both laughed and swayed their hips to the music, sloshing their drinks everywhere.
The way that you dance,
The way that you move,
The way that you stare at me across the room,
You carry Dior bags,
And you got your Chanel,
You wear Louis Vuitton, HG, and YSL,
Now I got what you need,
I got DCMA
I got brass knuckles hanging,
From my neck in my chain,
I got a model 26,
But she stays in her place,
I got a curve shirt neatly,
Tucked inside in my waist.
She had definitely changed since Hogwarts. Going from long skirts, baggy t-shirts and frizzy hair to wearing designer clothes, make up and having long curly hair. Blaise could spot at least six different expensive brands. He himself was covered in chains and rings, looking fabulously gangster, but pulling it off brilliantly.
And the record keeps playing,
The same old song,
The hipster keeps mugging on me all night long,
They say "Aha, ahha",
Keep your hands off my girl,
Keep your hands off my girl,
They say "Aha, ahha",
But the record keeps playing,
The same old song,
They say "Aha, ahha",
Keep your hands off my girl,
Keep your hands off my girl.
A guy steps up to her and asks to dance, she refuses, but he insists. Eventually he leaves but not before getting a punch in the right eye. No matter how sloshed she was, she could still throw a punch. More men come to ask, and Blaise's mind thinks, keep your hands off my girl…
Now she sweating my friends,
And my hurricane shoes,
She likes the records I spin,
But out Adam Barton tattoos,
But she can't say "what's up",
So what does she do,
She just stays posted up,
The other side of the room,
I got AMC tattooed on my hand,
I got black wall street on a black bandana.
Draco decides to try his luck on her, cause she making him sweat. But her eyes are firmly planted on me as I spin my records and flex my muscles. I wait for her to come over, but she stays firmly planted on the other side of the room.
She, she, she don't wanna talk about it,
He, he, he wants to fight about,
Me, me, I don't wanna fight about it,
I just wanna be about it,
I'm just trying to stay about it,
Step out the wagon,
You know the boy starts to hate,
The girl that came with him,
They like that's not the boy she dates,
They get the fighting and swearing,
And now the boyfriend is staring,
The disco ball on the ceiling,
Looks like the chain that I'm wearing,
But the music keeps playing,
I got brass knuckles hanging,
From my neck in my chain,
I got brass knuckles hanging,
From my neck in my chain.
Her boyfriend comes back from the bar, complaining about me. He walks off with some fake looking blonde attached to his arm. Her friend pulls him back and yells at him, swearing and cursing. I nervously pull the chains round my neck and twist my hair round my fingers.
And the record keeps playing,
The same old song,
The hipster keeps mugging on me all night long,
They say "Aha, ahha",
Keep your hands off my girl,
Keep your hands off my girl,
And the record keeps playing,
The same old song,
The hipster keeps mugging on me all night long,
They say "Aha, ahha",
Keep your hands off my girl,
Keep your hands off my girl.
He goes to grab you and I shout "Keep your hands off my girl!" Hermione turns around eyes like with praise unsaid.