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I'm gettin' tired of your shit |
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You don't never buy me nothin' |
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See everytime you come around |
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You got to bring Jim,James,Paul,and Tyrone |
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See why can't we be by ourselves sometimes |
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See I've been havin' this on my mind for a long time |
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I just want it to be,you and me |
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Like it used to be,baby |
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But 'cha don't know how to act |
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So matter fact |
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I think you'd better call Tyrone |
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(Call him) |
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And tell him come on help you get your shit |
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(Come on,Come on,Come on) |
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You need to call Tyrone |
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(Call him) |
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And tell him,I said come on |
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Now every time I ask you for a little cash |
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You say no but turn right around and ask me for some ass |
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Oh!Whoa! |
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Now hold up,listen partner I ain't no cheap thrill |
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Cause Miss Badu's always comin' for real |
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You now the deal,nigga |
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Everytime we go somewhere,I gotta reach down in my purse |
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To pay your way and your homeboy's way |
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And sometimes your cousin's way |
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They don't never have to pay |
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Don't have no cars |
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Hang around in bars |
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Trina hang around with stars |
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Like Badu Ima tell you the truth |
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Show the oooh |
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Or get the boot |
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I think you'd better call Tyrone |
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(Call him) |
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And tell him come on help you get your shit |
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(Come on,Come on,Come on) |
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You need to call Tyrone |
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(Call him) |
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Hold on.... |
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But you can't use my phone |
