Poor baby

Hey there good lookin' honey.  Can I have back my money?  'Cause I don't want you, anymore.  And besides, I lied.  You're short, stout, and old—an eyesore to behold.  Baby you ain't that cute.  I guess while I'm talkin' 'bout that, I can admit that you're fat.  So can you get outta my life and head to the gym?  That's right.  Get outta my life as quick as you can, but don't run, 'cause you'll look like a man, but, oh girl, head to that gym.  

Truth.