Designer suits, Gucci gloves, Chelsea boots All my demons are cocaine-fueled electric cool Sugar tooth, caramel, silky smooth Diving into Clase Azul swimming pools Sex so good, make the neighbors smoke a cigarette But I'm still bored to death Think I'm getting too good, too good at raising hell But I'm wearing it well I'm getting too good, too good at raising hell Oh, I'm ringing the bell I run a hotel without any beds Run a catwalk without any threads Driving myself right into the storm Burning my cash to keep myself warm Staying at the party when everyone's left What a good life, I'm living my best I'm still bored to death Think I'm getting too good, too good at raising hell But I'm wearing it well I'm getting too good, too good at raising hell Oh, I'm ringing the bell It's a little too easy, getting harder to please me I know you're starving to feed me, you know that you need me I'm getting too good, too good at raising hell Think I'm getting too good, too good at raising hell But I'm wearing it well I'm getting too good, too good at raising hell Oh, I'm ringing the bell It's a little too easy, getting harder to please me I know you're starving to feed me, you know that you need me I'm getting too good, too good at raising hell Oh yeah Too good Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah Woo, woo, woo Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah Woo, woo, woo Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah Woo, woo, woo Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah Woo, woo, woo Ah, we are babe