Lyrics:
at the morning bus stop
There was Mrs. Crabtree, and her poodle
She always gave a wave and holler on her weekly trip down to the bingo
parlor
And she drew
Men,
slow.
Fuck me like you want it. Hittin' every little organ by her stomach.
Stop back up, bitch who the fuck keep you cummin'.
[Daz]
And you
my pride
Walked away with my head held high
Called you out, said "You're just a little bitch"
Never ever I would cry over all your stupid lies
$hort baby, I'm so hard
Pimpin' these hoes on the boulevard
But I'm not here to tell ya bout me
I got a little story bout a nasty freak
She's the kind
as the day when the days are gone.
I said, "gone." When the money money gone
And you're dying baby it's just so sad.
Lost Mary. Cries cries cries
the player
Ran over my heart yeah just like a roller skater
Why all I ever did was try
Can't believe I compromised
All that time gave you truth
All you ever
myself
I don't need no help
I can sabatoge me by myself
Don't need no one else
I can sabotage me by myself
And I'm just a little bit caught in
gettin tipsy
Got my pistol out the window screamin, "Lord come and get me"
Am I sick, or am I just another victim?
Unloadin my clip, I'm watchin every
on the pizo
Gave your girl the chorizo
Go up out the shower and she cooked me a gizo
The more leather story its you just a little weasle
When you see me
Another day goes by, and still the children cry
Put a little love in your heart
If you want the world to know, we won't let hatred grow
Put a little love
Another day goes by, and still the children cry
Put a little love in your heart
If you want the world to know, we won't let hatred grow
Put a little love
while I hold your hand
And girl we're both mature enough so we can dirty dance
Cause can't you see that I'm a player and I got to have it
Just like
Tired of gettin' chased by the police and arrested
Niggas need a spot where we can kick it
Niggas ain't gotta get all dressed up and be Hollywood
to cry
I just hope your thinking about her
With every day that goes by
And when she starts to ask questions
I'll try my best to not cry
Yes I'll try
Not
sitting there on your little.. machine
Tryin' to look and keep it clean and
You're going to be home playing bingo all night all alone
And that's why your
You're gonna to be sitting there on your little machine
Trying to look and keep it clean and
You're going to be home playing bingo all night all alone
wait, was it Friday
Whenever, I ain't tripping I'm just saying
She was this ball player's girl
I ain't gonna say names
I only saw her when that nigga had
my pistol out the window screamin', "Lord come and get me"
Am I sick, or am I just another victim?
Unloadin' my clip, I'm watchin' every bullet spit
literally just you and me
From Grandma Gladys' house till we moved up the street
Hustler and a player, never little league
Speeding in the Jag, who on your
dictionary cries, colonize the native tongue
Missionary bible belt, motherland overrun
My gun heavy, I'm about to unload
This is a ode to Haiti, Mozambique,
that's risin' is unemployment?
Abortion, little kids havin' kids
The school system is failin' us, now ain't that some shit?
While the rich keep gettin'
(Seen her)
Five something, pretty face
And them big brown eyes small little waist
When the floor goes tremble
Make a grown man cry oooh
I keep runnin'
loses feeling
And we all fall down cry and get a little drunk
If I could take a trip into your mind
I just wanna hold you up
I don't wanna see you
to eye just when we f*****g call me handsome
Calling me her daddy I don't ever gotta answer
Big racks by the stick
Push weight in the click
Lil mama bad
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