| Every second, every minute, man, I swear that she can get it
|
| Say if you a bad bitch put your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
|
| Tell 'em dim the lights down right now, put me in the mood
|
| I’m talking 'bout dark room, perfume, go, go
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| I recognize your fragrance, hold up, you ain’t never gotta say shit, uh
|
| And I know your taste is, a little bit hmm, high maintenance, uh
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| Everybody else basic, you live life on an everyday basis
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| With poetic justice, poetic justice
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| If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?
|
| I mean I write poems in these songs dedicated to you when
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| You’re in the mood for empathy, there’s blood in my pen
|
| Better yet, where your friends and 'em? |
| I really wanna know you all
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| I really wanna show you off, fuck that
|
| Pour up plenty of champagne, cold nights when you curse this name
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| You called up your girlfriends and y’all curled in that little bitty Range I
|
| heard that
|
| She wanna go and party, she wanna go and party
|
| Nigga don’t approach her with that Atari, nigga, that ain’t good game, homie,
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| sorry
|
| They say conversation rule a nation, I can tell
|
| But I could never right my wrongs 'less I write it down for real, P. S
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
|
| Poetic justice, put it in a song
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
|
| Poetic justice, put it in a song
|
| I really hope you play this, 'cause ol' girl, you test my patience
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| With all these seductive photographs and all these one off vacations
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| You’ve been taking clearly a lot for me to take in, it don’t make sense
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| Young East African girl, you too busy fucking with your other man
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| I was tryna put you on game, put you on a plane
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| Take you and your momma to the motherland, I could do it
|
| Maybe one day when you figure out you’re gonna need someone
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| When you figure out it’s alright here in the city and you don’t run from where
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| we come from
|
| That sound like poetic justice, poetic justice
|
| You were so new to this life but Goddamn, you got adjusted
|
| I mean I write poems in these songs dedicated to the fun sex
|
| Your natural hair and your soft skin and your big ass in that sundress, ooh
|
| Good God, what you doing that walk for?
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| When I see that thing move, I just wish we would fight less and we would talk
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| more
|
| And they say communication save relations, I can tell
|
| But I can never right my wrongs unless I write 'em down for real, P. S
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
|
| Poetic justice, put it in a song
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
|
| Poetic justice, put it in a song
|
| Every time I write these words, they become a taboo
|
| Making sure my punctuation curve, every letter here’s true
|
| Living my life in the margin and that metaphor was proof
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| I’m talking poetic justice, poetic justice
|
| If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?
|
| I mean you need to hear this, love is not just a verb
|
| It’s you looking in the mirror, love is not just a verb
|
| It’s you looking for it, maybe, call me crazy, we can both be insane
|
| A fatal attraction is common and what we have common is pain
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| I mean you need to hear this, love is not just a verb
|
| And I can see power steering, sex drive when you swerve
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| I want that interference, it’s coherent, I can hear it, uh-huh
|
| That’s your heartbeat, it either caught me or it called me, uh-huh
|
| Read slow and you’ll find gold mines in these lines
|
| Sincerely, yours truly and right before you go blind, P. S
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
|
| Poetic justice, put it in a song
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| You can get it, you can get it
|
| And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
|
| Poetic justice, put it in a song
|
| «I'm gon' ask you one more time homie, where is you from? |
| Or it is a problem»
|
| «Ay you over here for Sherane homie?»
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| «Yo I don’t care who this nigga over here for, if he don’t tell where he come,
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| it’s a wrap! |
| I’m sorry»
|
| «Hol' up hol' up hol' up, we gon' do it like this, OK? |
| I’mma tell you where I’m
|
| from, OK? |
| You gon' tell me where you from, OK? |
| Or where your Grandma stay,
|
| where your mama stay, or where your daddy stay, OK?»
|
| «Enough with all this talkin»
|
| «Matter of fact, get out the van homie. |
| Get out the car before I snatch you out
|
| that motherfucker homie» |