| Uh, y’know, uh, uh, Boogie Brown, uh
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| How you expect me to love you
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| When I can’t even trust you, uh, huh
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| So he played you, right?
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| Shot a little game then he blazed you, right?
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| Talkin' 'bout he was gon' make you wife then make you right
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| And the last you seen was his car brake lights
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| He fooled you girl, pussy is power, let me school you girl
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| Don’t get up off it 'til he move you girl
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| And let no playin' nigga rule your world and screw you girl
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| I got 'em hatin' me
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| I throws the pussy down, keep 'em chasin' me
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| Basically, niggas game a lot, so bet I game back
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| And make the nigga think that I came a lot
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| And I change the plot, when we was at Jacob
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| That chain was hot, is he on or what?
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| Nigga copped the broach, and the double R
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| And you got the notes, so I know you not broke, nigga
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| (I ain’t fuckin' wit' you)
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| I can’t rock with you no more
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| (You and your bullshit)
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| (How can I love you)
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| (Can't even trust you)
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| I got 'em mad at Fox, 'fore I let a nigga just stab the box
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| I gotta have some rocks
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| Even then all I do is get they asses hot
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| Then I ask them when was the last time you had some twat?
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| Put 'em right in his place, saw him right down
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| Shake it right in his face, you like the waist?
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| By the way baby boy, would you like a taste?
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| Let me tell you what I need on those license plates
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| «Property of Mahogany Brown», standin' knock-kneed
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| On the balcony while you knock me down
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| Ya’ll wanna break me off without cakin' me off?
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| Then expect the bitch to be faithfull to y’alls
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| The next nigga copin' me bags straight from Dior
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| Prada shoes, that’s the bomb straight outta Milan
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| And I’m about that money, no need to pretend
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| Why don’t you holla at me when you ready to spend?
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| (I ain’t fuckin' wit' you)
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| I can’t rock with you no more
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| (You and your bullshit)
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| (How can I love you)
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| (Can't even trust you)
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| You got as much, you game’s y’all
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| And I can spit it nigga, same as y’alls, same shoes, same cars
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| Ain’t like a chick ain’t bawlin' herself
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| Can you give me mo', then I’m holdin' myself
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| I ain’t tryin' to trip on no dick
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| I ain’t tryin' to have no cat laid up in my shit
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| Had the next bitch layed up in my six?
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| Gigglin', dizzy as shit, is it sick?
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| I’m what a nigga would love to have
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| Chick with her own, nice tits, nice ass
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| Nice attitude even though I might spaz
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| He was still quite fast, you like the wife style
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| Cuz you know that I come out ready to dumb out
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| In house shoes, slippers, put it down for my niggas
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| And I ain’t goin' front, I’m about my end, so
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| Holla at me when you ready to spend
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| (I ain’t fuckin' wit' you)
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| I can’t rock with you no more
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| (You and your bullshit)
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| (How can I love you)
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| (Can't even trust you)
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| I can’t rock you no more
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| Say it again, say it again
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| I can’t rock you, no more
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| Say it again, say it again
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| Say it again, say it again |