LA tried to tell me, I wasn’t very pretty and
They don’t give a prize to girls who are witty so [bad word] you in the face
You need to get out of this place
To the flyover states
And remember what people look like

In Buffalo the girls don’t have to be underweight
They have hips and [bad word] and even [bad word] All of my friends still have real noses
And the boys like them anyway
So the problem I suppose is

You gotta let go of your stupid ideal
And try to see the beauty in what’s real

And I’m pretty in Buffalo
I’m a y [bad word] there don’t you know
The boys like me in Buffalo
And if you don’t believe me
I’ll tell you where you can go

You say you wanna find a girl who has it all
Hotter than Giselle and funnier than Lucile Ball
In the battle of wits and [bad word] We both know which way you’ll go
But ‘I Love Giselle’ wasn’t the name of that TV show

I’m from a town where mullets aren’t ironic
So when I go home people want it

Cause I’m pretty in Buffalo
I’m a foxy mother [bad word] there don’t you know
The girls like me in Buffalo
And if you don’t believe me
I’ll tell you where you can go

I could wear Lee press-on nails and Carhart gear and [bad word] bangs
And still be in the fashion show at the mall
I could drink beer every night and eat nothing but chicken wings
And still pick up dudes at the pool hall

And I’m pretty in Buffalo
I’m all over your face there don’t you know
They all like me in Buffalo
Maybe I should just pack my stuff and go