Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Here We Go, artist - Mr. Scruff. Album song Trouser Jazz, in the genre Электроника
Date of issue: 08.09.2002
Record label: Ninja Tune
Song language: English
Here We Go |
Look, I ain’t got nothin' to say to you |
I can’t even believe you |
You know what? |
I’m too fly for this shit |
You playin' yourself |
Here we go, here we go again |
Now you’re tellin' me, that she is just a friend |
Then why’s she callin' you at three o’clock in the mornin' |
I can’t take this no more, no, no, no |
Here we go, here we go again |
Now you’re tellin' me, that she is just a friend |
Then why’s she callin' you at three o’clock in the mornin' |
I ain’t tryin' to hear it, not this time |
Look nigga, what you think this is? |
You treatin' me like a random chick? |
You done forgot, who introduced you to rocks |
And poppin' all that Crist' and shit |
Who let you hit it from the back any way that you liked |
And any debts, I can pay the price |
I thought I was a chick you would make yo' wife, damn |
And now a bitch can’t even stay the night? |
You whack |
I can’t even look in your face without wantin' to slap you |
Damn, I thank God, I ain’t get that tattoo |
You better thank God, I ain’t have the strap boo |
You ain’t even worth lettin' Trick get at you |
Matter of fact, Trick get at dude |
I’m convinced, I ain’t got shit to ask you |
And tell that triflin' bitch, she can have you |
I ain’t lookin' at you no more, I’m lookin' past you |
Here we go, here we go again |
Now you’re tellin' me, that she is just a friend |
Then why’s she callin' you at three o’clock in the mornin' |
I can’t take this no more, no, no, no |
Here we go, here we go again |
Now you’re tellin' me, that she is just a friend |
Then why’s she callin' you at three o’clock in the mornin' |
I ain’t tryin' to hear it, not this time |
When my girl came through with the news |
All I did was think about me and you like, «Damn» |
What a chick gotta do to get with a real nigga |
That know how to stay true like man, man |
Know one quarter to eight, you better hop on the bus or a cab |
I shed so many tears, can’t believe how many years |
‘The Baddest Bitch' put up with yo' dusty ass, yeah |
Now you know that I’m the Queen of Miami |
All that loud talkin', lyin', save that shit for your mammy |
Sounds like, «Blah, blah, blah, blah, bla, blah, bla» |
I’m like uh, huh, uh, huh, okay, okay |
Whassup, whassup, shut up |
Here we go, here we go again |
Now you’re tellin' me, that she is just a friend |
Then why’s she callin' you at three o’clock in the mornin' |
I can’t take this no more, no more no more |
Here we go, here we go again |
Now you’re tellin' me, that she is just a friend |
Then why’s she callin' you at three o’clock in the mornin' |
I ain’t tryin' to hear it, not this time |
Now all my ladies say if you feel the same |
If you can’t take no more say,? |
No, no, no? |
No, no, no? |
No, no, no |
Here we go, here we go again |
Now you’re tellin' me, that she is just a friend |
Then why’s she callin' you at three o’clock in the mornin' |
I can’t take this no more, no, no, no |
That’s why I’m grabbin' up my jewels, grabbin' up my purse |
I’ll be back for all my shoes and purses, watch me fly |
In the seven forty-five while I’m ridin' out |
‘Cause I ain’t tryin' to hear it, not this time |