| Ahhhhh… I usually avoid any type’o’confrontation
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| Conversation, in moderation
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| Lips sealed but my fingers are flying
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| As the hours pass they grow more impatient
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| My phone is mad lettered, especially when I’m sauced up And I admit that I’m ashamed
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| But there’s Melissa, Theresa, and Emily
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| What a Toss-Up! |
| But thats the best part of the game.
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| And I’m really a novice aspirin’alcoholic
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| Drownin the days pain in house barley and grain
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| Thinkin’of ways to convince one to join me in the company of low life sort,
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| doin’the same
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| (So) I start txtin
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| (Ah) I keep txtin
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| (Heeey) I can’t stop its my obsession
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| (Yep) Its like fishin and my words are like lures if they bite the bait (cool)
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| if not call it a night
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| We can’t,
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| More like we shouldn’t
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| I know…
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| And I try,
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| To be a good boy but its hard
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| (I start txtin,
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| I keep txtin,
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| I can’t stop its my obsession)
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| Now ask yourself this: Is love a tender thing? |
| Too rough? |
| Too rude?
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| Too boisterous?
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| Well I’ll tell you what man I had her once and it was fun but not enough.
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| Tis torture, and not mercy.
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| Heaven is where my phone lives (heaven is where my phone lives)
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| In my pocket, so cozy; |
| oh what a joy replies give.
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| It seems Melissa’s babysittin and Theresa’s workin late, but Emily’s on her way
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| to East
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| Eleventh on a train. |
| and thats when I remember Pattie from West Philly,
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| she says I’m in your
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| Area 3 minutes away
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| So I stop txtin
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| No more txtin
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| Hey! |
| yeah right its my obsession
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| I know you think I’m wreckless, move so fast (slow down)
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| I think I love him so I told him by the Inner text-message (?) (uh-huh)
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| He wrote back, Me Too. |
| I was just sittin’here thinkin’bout you
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| I know I want him but I can’t and I shouldn’t
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| Tried to put my phone down, damn! |
| but I couldn’t
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| Stayed on the phone with him all night long
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| Txt Message when I’m gone |