Lyrics:
it's starting to look a lot like Trapped in the Closet (ooh)
I was thinking about that masterpiece by R. Kelly (ooh)
When suddenly my dentist started
you itching the issue
Why you itching the issue
Like R. Kelly we piss you
Take that part out, i didn't mean that
Is it too soon to do R. Kelly jokes?
I was you, I'd love me too, I roll like a boss
Nine eleven Porsche same color as cranberry sauce
I ain't gon' front, I thought R. Kelly was the shit
blurrin'
Whoa-oh, I can't see shit, my words get to slurrin'
Uh-oh, you can call me R. Kelly now, you're in
Trouble, what's occurring before, after,
'Bout to show you how R. Kellz ride
Baby what I got on my mind
I hope the same thing is on your mind
Try'na get you somewhere and grind
Because your
Dem came off enough about gyal
You still see me with the same squad
From Jay plug to A1, it's my time, game on
You see me
I'm tryna get rich before I
In so many bourgeois homes Van Gogh's sunflowers radiate from the walls,
Yet he lived in utter misery, condemned by those very same people.
Why is it
intentions baby, I ain't gotta lie
You can see right through me
You don't have to use your eyes
We can listen to that old Kelly
By the time we get done you are
feeling your vibe
And I'm hoping you feel the same
I'm a wink my eye and let you know I got the game
When I pa** by I know exactly what you say
He's so
I'm pouring out this metaphorical 40
Taking time to acknowledge the things that weren't meant for me
Surely there are people in my life who aren't
Today's the day that I wrote this song,
Two years isn't that long.
Happy Birthday, Kelly.
September 1, 2005, Saturday..are driving by.
As we ate,
around to Pac, I fuck my girl to R. Kelly
Tell her make me a sandwich, no PB and jelly
She look back like, "Goddamn, what you think this? A deli?"
I'm
So, let's randevous on this same spot, same time, 7 years later!
I'm the guy, no, I'm disguised
I'm just playing by your side with knives and smile like
a different day (day)
Out here tryna get it (get it), each and every way (way)
Momma need a house (house), baby need some shoes (shoes, okay)
Times are
a list of maybe 400 people. I called. I texted. I emailed them one by one, and I explained to them, Hi, how are you? I know we haven't talked in a while,
Metallica, than R Kelly’s 12 play
Forget love, I got an album to write
But this African’s reminding me I wanted a wife
And I’m not trying to be a cynic
else's wife in fact
You didn't even look at me like that
Then it all just switched, over time
Step by step and you know what's next girl
I can't
I get a call, 9 in the morning, I'm reaching for the phone
Meech got some work for me, I'm guessing i can tag along
East side, Clinton and kelly, i
he doesn't know who we are (by name)
and he doesn't give a decent grade out.
cause he's such a ugly teacher, baby
and he's such a pointless teacher,
can't have
I don't care if you like me or not
I'm better than some that are
Signed to the Roc
Any time, any slot, I'm right for the job
On the mic, I'm
then my girl on a centerfold
See father time in the rearview though
Man push that envelope
Levels are critical
Do what it takes
Just to WIN
I'm on my way
pathetic guy who's getting by
Selling lies and nursery rhymes
Someone tell Kelly, "Time for beddy-bye"
He really rhymed 'beard' with 'weird'
Like, you really
the keys to the spot
And it's full of hunnies, panties with no tops
We take a puff of 'dro be-atch
Fat Joe, R. Kelly we pop up
Yeah, Terror Squad,
the hang time (swish, swish), same time
Way back before Maybachs (skrrt, skrrt), I swear I always had the same drive (woo)
Pumpin' stucco off the mud,
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