Alright then
Alright then
I'm getting tired of
Your stuff
You don't never buy me
Nothing...
And every time
You come around
You got to bring
Jim, John, Paul
And Tyrone
Now why can't we,
Be by ourselves,
Sometimes?
See, I've been
Having this on
My mind
For a long time
I just want it
To be you and me
Like it used to be
Baby
But ya' don't know
How to act
So matter fact
'Think ya' better
Call Tyrone
And tell him come on
Help you get your stuff
Ya' need to call
Tyrone and tell him
I said come on
Now every time
I ask you
For a little cash
You say no
But turn around
And ask me for some
Well, hold up
Listen partner
I ain't no
Cheap thrill
'Cause Ms. Badu's
Always coming
For real
You know the deal
Everytime we go
Somewhere
I got to reach
Way down
In my purse to
Pay your way
And your home-boy's
Way
And sometimes
Your cousins way
When we all go out
To eat, you made me
Ride in the backseat
And that ain't right
Child
I said that ain't right
Child
So, I think you better
Call Tyrone
Tell him come on
Help you get your stuff
Ya' need to call
Tyrone...
But you can't
Use my phone
Oh, take my pills
Pay my bills
I'm here to
Let you know that
What I feel is real
Day to day life
With you, is no thrill
It's getting late
No time to wait
Get to gone
So I could meditate
Hmm, hmm...
Light my cong
Sing my songs
I don't give a damn
If ya' think I'm wrong
Too da loo too da loo
Da da da da da da...
Day or night
Wrong or right
Tell your boys
To find another place
To watch the fight
Don't make me
Go get big Mike...oh
So tell your boys
At the liquor store
That you're gonna need
A place to go
I don't care
But ya' gots to leave
You can tell them
You broke up with me
I wanted you to
Massage my toes
But ya' rather play
Dominos
So baby, get up off
Your knees and hands
And go and tell it to
The preacher man
No, first I think
Ya' better call Tyrone
Tell him come on
Help you get your stuff
Ya' need to call Tyrone
But ya' can't use
My phone...