| I miss you, where you been?
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| It’s been months and I haven’t heard from you, I need you
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| It’s been months and I haven’t heard from you, come back to me
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| Come back, I need you in my life
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| I miss you, I miss you, come back to me, I miss you
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| What’s up baby? |
| It’s been a while
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| You been good? |
| I’ve been around
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| different girls, different towns
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| To keep it real, you missing out
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| I’ll all bored, next city
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| Random cars, TEC’s with me
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| Like I miss you so much, have sex with me
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| Not right now, look you know I got the ex with me
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| She like fuck that, I don’t care Dom
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| So selfish and that really isn’t fair Dom
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| Meet me here, where Dom?
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| Get undressed, yeah Dom
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| Yeah Dom, what you need?
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| Some bomb head? |
| A bag of weed?
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| Good food? |
| Japanese?
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| That’s me on page forty in that magazine
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| «Dom Kennedy"you need that
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| She said nobody come close, I agreed back
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| I’m the nigga who used to help her pull that weed back
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| and she need me, believe that
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| That girl is smoking
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| and can you believe that I’m her focus?
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| It ain’t hard to see she got me open
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| and together, we are roller-coasting, on, on, on
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| What’s up love? |
| It’s been a while
|
| You been good? |
| I’ve been around
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| Remember dinner dates I was late? |
| Mr. Chiles
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| Truant like a student, you the principal
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| Schooled me on timing, we was both shining
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| like the sun bouncing off the brightest blood diamond
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| I was Your Highness, you was my queen
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| You got over him when I got in between
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| Watching Martin on TV as it was T-D-S
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| for us to eat TV dinners every time we was famished
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| But it was such a pleasure to watch you try to hold it together
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| Every time I put the head in you would panic
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| and come right down like an avalanche
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| Make your legs slant, whisper till you juicing up your pants
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| Baby how that sound? |
| Kosher, no sir
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| Wake it back up, Folgers posters
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| By my waistline, shout for your hard hit
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| You called it a hate crime, say you want me back
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| and your girl wanna date Dom, that’s high school shit
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| 4−0-1 K, we could be friends with benefits, you dig that?
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| I upped and walked out, now she crying cuz
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| She need me, I got that John Bryan love
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| Had to find love, we called it punch-drunk
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| We was a two-piece, she was a one-punch
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| You know, a knock-out, and if she was to walk out
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| my heart would go black, shrivel up and drop out
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| There we go again, what the fuck you talking bout?
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| We used to fuck all the time back at my momma’s house
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| Smoking beedies, laying on the futon
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| Memories I got saved up like a coupon
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| And we’d be too gone off a sack of stress weed
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| I was broke then, couldn’t count the best weed
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| Then she would just leave in a black hatchback
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| Homies from the hood used to ask me if I’d tapped that
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| I would say yep, smiling so freely
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| That was back then, but I bet she still need me
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| She need me, she need me
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| She need me, she need me
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| I would say yes, smiling so freely
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| That was back then, I bet she still need me |