| Trust me, we can make the scene turn ugly
|
| You hate me or you love me, trust me
|
| We can make the scene turn ugly
|
| You hate me or you love me
|
| We can make the scene turn ugly, trust me
|
| She sits in bed with her halo crooked
|
| She says she’s never been in love before
|
| She takes time to define what we’ll never get
|
| We’re turning into enemies with benefits
|
| Enemies with benefits
|
| She the girl of my dreams, also my nightmares
|
| Cause she be jigglin' it, killin' it in her nightwear
|
| Between mean glances that we might share
|
| The space between us is like a lightyear
|
| All in my phone like she AT&T
|
| All in my Facebook pretendin she me
|
| Cus her «Not Hot» single friends feedin her nonsense
|
| The ghetto’s trying to kill me and my chick’s an accomplice
|
| With black gloves (black gloves) black mask (black mask)
|
| Full lips (full lips) fat ass (I like that!)
|
| Text messaging ridiculous comments
|
| I’d have to wash my mouth out to read you the contents
|
| She might literally love me to death
|
| We had a stairway to heaven til' I fell down the steps
|
| Now I’m left with a pain in the neck
|
| But she’s my eye candy, the flavor I savor
|
| And I’m part Vader, I think with my saber
|
| I live in crazy town and I’m married to the mayor
|
| She sits in bed with her halo crooked
|
| She says she’s never been in love before
|
| She takes time to define what we’ll never get
|
| We’re turning into enemies with benefits
|
| Enemies with benefits
|
| They call me Lex, junior
|
| Not Rex Lewis
|
| My ex like a six shot shooter — sex ruger
|
| She’s a sex cougar
|
| She texts, we bang every time I sit next to her
|
| Man, she get me hard as steel, I call her X-Ray
|
| Coz my ex bust her neck during sex play
|
| I get the cleanest dome, I mean it holmes
|
| She never be at home but she never be alone
|
| Her boyfriend is a punk, he rock a onesie
|
| He think he fly, pullin' stunts in his undies
|
| But she my kryptonite
|
| I know… cryptic right?
|
| I’m sitting back with a pipe getting ripped at night
|
| On my window pane, the coldest rain
|
| My enemy, Miss Lois Lane
|
| She sits in bed with her halo crooked
|
| She says she’s never been in love before
|
| She takes time to define what we’ll never get
|
| We’re turning into enemies with benefits
|
| Enemies with benefits
|
| She’s a devil in a baby blue dress
|
| Who I’m mentally redressing as an angel through sex
|
| Who be testing my mettle — and yes, in a way, I choose the stress
|
| And I guess that I settle cause I’m a slave to huge breasts
|
| But it ain’t worth it
|
| Ask me again if my mind has changed on the situation in five days
|
| And I couldn’t say for certain
|
| And so we stay in this deranged arrangement
|
| Nailing ‘tween the breaks of these unwavering debates of ‘who's the
|
| Crazy person'?
|
| She got them fuck-goggles on me
|
| My judgement Impaired like I was drunk on kamakaze’s running a busted Kawasaki
|
| Callin the love doctor cause I need a fix of this chick and it’s sickening
|
| Wish I could quit, but my dick is mixing the signals and shit
|
| Half of the time, I see past these disastrous signs
|
| And half of the time, I keep asking if I’m happy to lie
|
| If blame can be assigned, then I guess I’ll have to try this food for thought:
|
| You can always see the shape of the pan in the pie
|
| Savage desire in me to taste her loving
|
| So my peace of mind will never turn into a baker’s dozen
|
| I’m crumbling |