| Her name appears in my call log often
|
| Shouldn’t even be fuckin' this girl but I lost it
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| Had a problem trustin' 'til I touched it
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| Now she dust it and go
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| As the sun comes up and these curtains unfold
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| And I’m all fucked up cause this gold wrapper ain’t left my pocket
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| Tickled at first, expecting you to say stop it
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| But you didn’t, so I’m with it
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| And we did it, and now I’m wakin' up wishin' I didn’t pull out, wow
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| It’s the morning after
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| Ain’t too much for me to say so I turn away
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| It’s the morning after
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| Looking over at your face
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| Girl I can’t believe it’s the morning after
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| Her effects in me are depthening
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| Defining every moment would be simple but
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| I’m restricted, I’m conflicted
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| I dismiss it, then I’m right back into the game
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| Man, this girl’s a saint and a vixen
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| Last night I learned a lesson and this morning I’m being tested on it
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| She young and ready and fucking her professor, homie
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| But I don’t wanna know lesser
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| First came about the service and then came us
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| So you know I tear that down before the sun came up |
| And in her mind she probly thinkin' she came up
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| When a R&B nigga like I, like I ain’t seen shit before
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| I know I messed but I want more, wake up
|
| It’s the morning after
|
| Ain’t too much for me to say so I turn away
|
| It’s the morning after
|
| Looking over at your face
|
| Girl I can’t believe it’s the morning after
|
| It’s the morning after
|
| It’s the morning after
|
| It’s the morning after |