Too Good At Raising Hell

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

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, we are, babe