Lyrics:
(She might she might be miss)
I say she might be; she might be
Mrs. Right!
Miss lady in red. Do you mind if I put my fingers through your hair
I'm
up in my DM's she said "Hit me tomorrow"
My bubble got bust by an old man saying
"Get back on the clock boy, this ain't no phone shop boy"
Old Man
(huh)
Nice honest ladies by my side, I need more (bitch)
"Baby, baby, let me be your wife," she gotta go
Got the money long, need it wide, I need more
my pleasure! Perhaps we'll find time for a drink?"
He hears her gasp and then she laughs, to give herself some time to think
You see, she's been
molly
Me and my kup we fighting my demons distracted by Jennifer's body
Business is business and time is money
I'm outer space like Scott Mescudi
She see
Misunderstood"
Play it for the First Lady, she ain't feeling any good
Play Don Henley, play Glenn Frey
Take it to the limit and let it go by
Play it for Carl
real tight
Sexy Cutie the type that suit me
Got me stunned by her natural beauty
Gettin by so she can't refuse me
lyrical excuse so she start
(Gangfull)
Haha, arr
(Worldwide shit me and Cresp really gon' crank)
Cresp Joe
Day to day, they be fucking up my day look
Look, one two hey take
All these thoughts in my head, I can't stop em
I been running from my problems, maybe I'm the problem
Thought that I would lose them, somehow stop
i know you gon fold
I got a 40
My belt buckle froze
B-simons my waist
And my money on old
Blood on my boots
And it aint from the Louis
I got white
of sisters
I'm mister misery she's lil miss misses me
And it's a mystery I guess now so it seems
Sticks and stones can break my bones
Same with the hugs
My baby makes me proud, Lord don't she make me proud
She never makes a scene by hanging all over me in a crowd
'Cause people like to talk, Lord,
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
Writer Kenny O'Dell
My baby makes me proud, Lord don't she make me proud She never makes a scene by hanging all over me in
ya hoe at
Where ya bicch
She been tellin me that YU a Joe cat it's none of my business to know dat
Babygirl get to the spittin and blow dat keepin
I holla how you doing and she say what's up
Then she went on to tell me that she love my truck
I got my lady at home but what the fuck
Here you go,
Jumping Jack Flash it's a gas gas gas
I was raised by a toothless bearded hag
I was schooled with a strap right across my back
But it's alright now in
to be a playa
Bag them by the twos I broke the clock by doing layups
And bitch you you on my time so when i'm talking don't you say nothing
When the time
go
You can never tell me what I know
Skinny man but I move like GI joe
You can never take my place, I'm here to stay
You can never step my way, badman
Malcolm till the day game
Lil' Latasha sure grown, tell the lady in the liquor store that she's forgiven
So come home
Maybe in time you'll understand, only
she made that mirror fall
She's a sicko lady still, that woman's making angels crawl
I think she forgot how to cry the way she let the young man die
did
I'm sure her mother knew
Violet was a silent girl
She moved out at sixteen
A semi-detached council flat
Paid for by a welfare-scheme
Packing
my bed. "Names Shaniqua and what"
Na, Get the hell up off my baby
CHORUS
Now she the type of lady that every man needs, shes straight up feisty,
She
I sip that drink ‘cause it taste good
I fucked that bitch ‘cause she look good
In your city throwin' up my hood
They like he goin' crazy
She tryna
ahh
I see an old woman throwin' trash at the lady Jane
She kept her composure, sunglasses for the pain
Old lady calling her a slut
Criticizing the fact
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