Sure the million-dollar pretty boy can play football. At least that’s what the papers lead us to believe. Me though, I’m not so convinced.
Sure he's got a backside you could bounce quarters off, arms you want wrapped around you, dimples you’d drown in and hair you’d sell your mother to pull... but is he a nice guy or has he let fame go to his head.
I wasn’t one of his adoring fans, throwing my granny panties at his feet... that was until I met him and he completely screwed me...” DRIVE
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