Sleepless in New Orleans
More bullshit, here we go again
Anonymous tips, and false love from ya friends
Said they saw my car around that one bitch crib again
When will you ever learn? Them hoes is miserable
They know what we be doin'
They know where we be goin'
They wish it was them instead of you I'm diggin' on
With all this trippin' you just gonna make it easy for 'em
I'm just sayin' mama, quit playin' mama
Walk in the house and shorty go the long face
Oh shit, whatcha home girl say?
I guess I was the topic at the beauty shop today
You let them heffers tell it; I'm constantly on dates
And for the most part I'm in the studio droppin' my tapes
I invite you to sessions you don't be wantin' to stay
Til four and five in the mornin'
You worryin' bout me tourin'
And layin' up with these bitches
I wonder if a rapper-relationsship really fitcha
Tryina test my patience or drive em crazy ringin' my phone
I answer it, you listenin' for background noise
All CSI tryna detect female voice
And that's so uncomfortable
You used to be my down-ass chick what did you turn into
I'm tryna have it all Cliffe and Clair Huxtable
I'm almost to the point where I'm fed up with you
I'm just sayin' mama, stop playin' mama
Whatchu mean 'what I'm packin' for'?
I'mma give you minute, you've been actin' up
Grab me some boxes, a couple Air Maxes and stuff
XBox and games on the passenger seat of my truck
Bring it by my other crib where my little brother live
Clear my head, be back in a couple days
Few different tangled biddies, pretty skinnies in my bed
But they only get my dick, not my heart B
If you ain't the one you the proto-type, word to André
See them as freaks and I see you as my fiancé
I don't ever bring that bullshit round home base
I keep G, gimme that, I mean come one B
No other nigga can hit it like I did it
And no other will ever get a chance to get it
I'm tryna have it all Barack and Michelle
If you ridin' then I'll be back when it ain't hard for me to tell
I'm just sayin' mama, stop playin' mama
Anonymous tips, and false love from ya friends
Said they saw my car around that one bitch crib again
When will you ever learn? Them hoes is miserable
They know what we be doin'
They know where we be goin'
They wish it was them instead of you I'm diggin' on
With all this trippin' you just gonna make it easy for 'em
I'm just sayin' mama, quit playin' mama
Walk in the house and shorty go the long face
Oh shit, whatcha home girl say?
I guess I was the topic at the beauty shop today
You let them heffers tell it; I'm constantly on dates
And for the most part I'm in the studio droppin' my tapes
I invite you to sessions you don't be wantin' to stay
Til four and five in the mornin'
You worryin' bout me tourin'
And layin' up with these bitches
I wonder if a rapper-relationsship really fitcha
Tryina test my patience or drive em crazy ringin' my phone
I answer it, you listenin' for background noise
All CSI tryna detect female voice
And that's so uncomfortable
You used to be my down-ass chick what did you turn into
I'm tryna have it all Cliffe and Clair Huxtable
I'm almost to the point where I'm fed up with you
I'm just sayin' mama, stop playin' mama
Whatchu mean 'what I'm packin' for'?
I'mma give you minute, you've been actin' up
Grab me some boxes, a couple Air Maxes and stuff
XBox and games on the passenger seat of my truck
Bring it by my other crib where my little brother live
Clear my head, be back in a couple days
Few different tangled biddies, pretty skinnies in my bed
But they only get my dick, not my heart B
If you ain't the one you the proto-type, word to André
See them as freaks and I see you as my fiancé
I don't ever bring that bullshit round home base
I keep G, gimme that, I mean come one B
No other nigga can hit it like I did it
And no other will ever get a chance to get it
I'm tryna have it all Barack and Michelle
If you ridin' then I'll be back when it ain't hard for me to tell
I'm just sayin' mama, stop playin' mama
Credits
Writer(s): Shante Franklin, Edward Rameer Murray
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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