Don't.

Don't come over telling me that you miss me
Don't say you love me, I know that you're fibbing
No, I don't got time for games, little bitty
Yup, I just been in the A, yea the city
Oh oh oh oh oh oh

Mm mmm, yea
Hm yea
I got niggas who wouldn't accept a dime to watch my back, yea
I got holster all on my waistline to lock my strap, yea
I just checked my watch, it's not the time to act like that, yea
Thought I was gon' fuck the bitch one time but doubled back again
The head was way too good, when he fucked me it felt like crack, yea
Finna go ape on this bitch, close your eyes and make sure you don't bat them
Good wake and bake in this bih, we could turn up or we could go back to bed
You already know what the fucking deal is when I turn my back to men

Don't come over, telling me that you miss me
Don't say you love me, I know that you're fibbing
No, I don't got time for games, little bitty
Yup, I just been in the A, yea the city
Oh oh oh oh oh oh



Credits
Writer(s): Micah Harris
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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