| I’m getting tired of your shit
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| You don’t ever buy me nothing
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| See every time you come around
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| You gotta bring Jim, James, Paul and Tyrone
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| See, why can we be by ourselves sometime?
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| I’ve been having this on my mind for a long time
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| I just want it to be you and me like it used to be, baby
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| But you don’t know how to act
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| So matter a fact
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| I think you better call Tyrone
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| And tell him come on help you get your shit
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| Yeah you better call Tyrone
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| But you can’t use my phone
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| Every time we go somewhere
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| I gotta reach down in my purse
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| To pay your way
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| And your homeboys way
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| And sometimes your cousins way
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| They don’t ever have to pay
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| Don’t have no cars
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| Hang around in bars
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| Try to hang around with stars
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| Like Badu I’mma tell you true
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| You better show 'em proof
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| Call Tyrone
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| And tell him come on help you get your shit
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| Oh call Tyrone
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| But you can’t use my phone |