The Tally

She's so young, she calling me mister
Got those eyes just like her sister
Hey, we just trying to get by

She's so young, she calling me mister
Got those eyes just like her sister
Hey, we just trying to get by

The weather here in the south's getting hotter
Don't you come, why even bother?
Hey 'cause we're doing fine

I got you on the phone
Trying to get some play
Taking you home, all nights, all days
And I say that it's all the same

There you go, drawing your curtain
On you, I'ma put up a hurting
Hey 'cause you're mine

She call me boo when she getting frisky
I'm shooting the cinnamon whiskey
Hey 'cause I'm on fire

I got you on the phone
Trying to get some play
Taking you home, all nights, all days
And I say that it's all the same

She gonna take your money
She gonna take your pride
She gonna leave you lonely
She's gonna leave your side

She gonna take your money
She gonna take your pride
She gonna leave you lonely
She gonna drive you wild

There you go out to the tally
Feel you up out in the alley
Hey, just another night



Credits
Writer(s): Nick Brown, Zachary Lindsey, Vincent Gard, Jordan Young
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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