Every second, every minute, man I swear she can get it Say if you a bad bitch put your hands up high, hands up high, hands up Tell 'em dim the lights down now, put me in the mood I'm talking dark room, perfume Go, go!
I your fragrance (hol' up!) You ain't never say shit (woo!) And I your taste is A bit (mmm) high maintenance (ooh) Everybody else You live on an everyday basis With poetic justice, poetic If I told you that a flower in a dark room, would you trust it? I mean I write in these songs dedicated to you When in the mood for empathy, theres blood in my pen Better yet your friends and them? I really wanna you all I really wanna you off Fuck that, pour up of champagne Cold nights when you this name You called up girlfriends and Y'all curled in that little bitty I heard that She wanna go and party, she wanna go and don't approach her with that Atari Nigga that good game, homie, sorry say conversation, rule a nation, I can tell But I never right my wrongs 'less I it down for real, P.S
x2] You can get it, you can get it You can get it, you can get it And I know just, know just, know just, just, know just what you want justice, put it in a song
I really hope you this ol' girl you test my patience With all these seductive photographs and all one off vacations You've been a lot for me to take in It make sense Young East African Girl, you too busy with your other man I was to put you on game, put you on a plane Take you and mama to the motherland I do it, maybe one day When you out you're gonna need someone When you figure out all right here in the city And you don't run from where we come sound like poetic justice, poetic justice You were so new to this life but God damn you got I mean I write poems in these songs, to the fun sex Your hair and your soft skin, and your big ass in that sundress (ooh!) Good God, what you doing that for? When I see that thing move, I just we would fight less And we talk more And they say save relations, I can tell But I can never my wrongs unless I write them down for real P.S
Every I write these words they become a taboo sure my punctuation curve, every letter is true Living my life in the margin and that metaphor was I'm talking justice, poetic justice If I told you a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it? I you need to hear this Love is not just a verb, it's you in the mirror is not just a verb, it's you looking for a maybe Call me crazy, We can both be A fatal is common And what we have is pain I you need to hear this is not just a verb and I can see power steering Sex drive when you swerve, I want that It's coherent, I can it, mmhmm That's heartbeat It either me or it called me, mmhmm Breathe slow and you'll gold mines in these lines Sincerely, yours And right you go blind P.S