Buck Wild

What up brown skin, you're body smellin like cinnamon
Hair in a bun, your toes done so feminine
Heard you suck your teeth like oh no here we go again
Let me get your name so I can be more genuine
No need to front, the kid knows you got many friends
Many men's who waiting to stake a claim on it
Put they name down just to spit some game on it
But fuck friends I'm trying to set the mood
You know, go at you hard like most records that's sold
Spit propaganda at you to you break down and fold
You look confused miss thing like I'm speaking in code
76-64 press pound hello
Are you listening now, did I get your attention
Undivided because you used to be undecided
Now you looking fluxed like those chicks with they nose stuck up
Just put your number down girl what the fuck

I usually play the background, you know clean cut
Soft spoken well dressed dipped out straight chillin
When I'm in the club yo, sipping the sprite with the
Ill lemon mixed in it sipping on it I was just chillin
Til I saw you that's when my heart stopped knees gave
Head sweating jaws locked I was sweating you
Like god damn girl you got a nigga going buck wild
Mesmerized star struck I was thinking maybe
We can go out like to the movies or the Applebee's
Blockbuster state fair but you looked at me and
Said fuck that you just a herb with no money and
No jeep and no condo and I thought that Little Brother
Had a record deal, OK I see where you going now
Want a sweat a nigga when you think he got a cash advance
And some personal time but fuck that
I got your head still

I know I'm husky but chicks still love me
3 o'clock still have they ass running to Waffle House fa me
Be feeling on that ass till me name they be calling
And shit got them so wet they make a Freudian slip and
Fall down into my verbal abyss that's straight Reservoir
Dog style perfecto served with a kiss
Muah baby, it's just like this no need to fight it
Invite it try me out you just might like it
American pie shit try anything out once
Forever stained in memory like white shirts and punch
I get the hunch that a niggas on your menu
Do mew a favor girl come check me at the next venue



Credits
Writer(s): Phonte Coleman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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