Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Love Me, artist - 112. Album song Room 112, in the genre R&BDate of issue: 31.07.2005
Record label: Bad Boy
Song language: English
Love Me |
| Do my Puff Daddy shit |
| Do that Puff Daddy shit, son |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, what, what, what |
| ATL, Harlem World, ATL |
| ATL, Harlem World, ATL |
| 112, Harlem World, 112 |
| 112, Harlem World, 112 |
| Harlem World, ATL, 112 |
| 112, Harlem World, ATL |
| Yeah, kid you don’t stop |
| We won’t stop, you don’t stop |
| Come on Baby whenever I’m with you |
| No one else exists but you |
| Cuz you’re the one for me Every time that we’re apart |
| You’re always in my heart |
| And there you’ll always be Baby don’t go Your love’s so special |
| Can’t let me go now |
| If I did wrong, I’m sorry |
| No other love is for me 1 — Love me, hold me |
| (Why don’t you) |
| Squeeze me |
| (Love me, never let me go, baby) |
| Hug me, kiss me |
| (Why don’t you) |
| And love me |
| (Love me, never let go) |
| Whenever I’m on my way home |
| Just can’t wait to be alone |
| With you my baby |
| Anticipating how you’ll feel |
| Listen to me, I’m for real |
| When I say I love you |
| Baby don’t go Your love’s so special |
| Can’t let me go now |
| If I did wrong, I’m sorry |
| No other love is for me Uh, uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, what, what, what |
| Come on, yeah kid, Harlem on the rise |
| With 112 and you don’t want no problem with these guys |
| Yo, you cats never want no problem like we want it When Harlem World doubled up, we put G’s on it |
| I’m pushin’new 700 M.G.'s on it And if you can’t see the ice, that means my sleeve’s on it You know I dress as I’m suppose to Stretch Lex with a shouffer |
| Never sober, red Testarossa, cherry Rover |
| Baguettes in my Jehovah |
| Me and Puff at the Grammy’s, sittin’next to Oprah |
| (And the winner is) |
| What we hear is platinum that, platinum this |
| Platinum whips, nobody got no platinum hits |
| Cats know with me platinum always wrap my wrist |
| I come to the awards, quadruple platinum chicks |
| Little ones like twenty five, what cats get smacked with |
| Big ones like fourty five, what cats get clap with |
| I react sick whenever my dough ain’t accurate |
| Harlem World, Jr. Mafia, yeah and that’s it, come on Repeat 1 until end |