Some people think that she's one of those mink-coated ladies

They say she wakes up at one, makes the paparazzi run 'til dawn

Wines and dines with Argentines and Kuwaitis

After she sips margaritas on the White House lawn

That's not her style

I can tell you, that ain't my woman

It's just not her style

I can tell you, because I'm her man

The papers say she was seen in LA with a stranger

She found a perfect body with a Maserati right outside

And then she chartered a Lear when she heard her career was in danger

And gave the pilot something extra for a perfect ride

That's not her style

I can tell you, that ain't my woman

That's not her style

I can tell you, because I'm her man

That's not her style

I can tell you, that ain't my woman

It's just not her style

I can tell you, because I'm her man

It's not that she's never done something crazy

Or done something wild

It's just that she's better

At doing whatever suits her style

And that's not her style, no no no

I've read where it's said that she sleeps in a bed made of satin

She's had her face done in every place you can try

They say she gathers a piece of ev'ry lease in Manhattan

And says she's thirty when she's really pushing forty-five

That's not her style

I can tell you, that ain't my woman

It's just not her style

I can tell you, because I'm her man

You know it's not her style

I can tell you, that ain't my woman

It's just not her style

I can tell you, because I'm her man