| It’s the sinister sister, leave mics so hot make hands blister
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| Try to catch me but all you heard was «Damn you just missed her»
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| Daily means and whereabouts, more secret than a whisper
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| Cut sharper than a scissor, lookin' for the love elixir
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| Like most listeners, let them know it’s all in they reach
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| Spittin' my verbal attack with the impeccable speech
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| How 'bout niggas, gotta keep your dog on a short leesh
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| Got 'head speak, If not they try to play us like suckas
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| The most commitment, wanted non commitment givin' mothafuckas
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| Not sayin' that all men fall in this category
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| But one look in his eyes and I can tell they whole story
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| Lookin' for a friend or wife for late nate creep if he’s horny
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| If he’s sincere, got G, or pick up lines that corny
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| Tryin' to say that he adore me, when he don’t even know me
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| That type of weak game will leave a nigga, poor broke & lonely
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| Willin' to go and stick anything that let’s em stick 'em
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| Cuz thru all that bullshit, he’s lookin for anotha victim
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| Chorus 2X: Jeru The Damaja
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| Brrr, stick 'em, hahaha stick 'em
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| Brrr, brrr, stick 'em, hahaha, stick 'em
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| Brrr, stick 'em, hahaha stick 'em
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| Hahahahahaha
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| Perfect example, it was like Monday the 10th
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| Late afternoon, just on my king and it was time well spent
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| In any event, this niggas eyein me, it’s evident
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| Try hard to cement, to ignore his twisted compliments
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| He seem hell bent for my time, a hundred percent
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| Asked to come to sit at my table, if I was the age of contended
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| And no why he would put himself thru such torment
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| And despite the corny line, you could see the extent
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| That he would go, said he’d pay my rent, dress me and give me dough
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| Followed by constant comments 'bout my bodies measurements
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| I said «I don’t drink moet, take loot to get bent
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| Or use niggas to pay rent, I’m independent»
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| His response that «You heaven sent
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| But I haven’t met a chick that ain’t have a price yet»
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| I said «Well, I must be a different type of female
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| While bitches waitin' to exhale, I plot schemes to black male
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| Talkin' 'bout, you wash your car, who you knew and your wealth»
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| A new expirement, thinkin this niggas playin' himself
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| With just his arogance, not to exclude his rude attitude
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| How he pursued, relentless references to seein' me nude
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| The wrong move, this jiggy nigga really thinks he’s smooth
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| Like he got somethin' to prove, and I got nothin' to lose
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| I know his style, never ran into a femme fatale
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| Like you hearin' right now, comin' thru ya ear canal
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| I smile politely, so as not to blow my cover
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| Carryin' on conversation, knowin' that I’m on some other shit
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| Should have stopped when he had the chance to quit
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| Talkin' about his income, and how 'bout he wanna get some
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| Next time we meet, he’ll just be the next victim
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| Like my girl Nina, bangin body and she was cute
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| But she’d only fuck with niggas if they had mad loot
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| Plenty ice, nice ride, but she’d always have to drive
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| Trying to compesate the shit, that as a youth she was deprived
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| She survived, only to end up to being 85
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| Talkin' 'bout I played that nigga, keep it real baby… |