Don't Wanna Dance
If it ain't my heart gettin' stepped on it's my feet
Ice cold as the champagne Charmaine keeps spilling on me
DJ playing all these love songs like I really need that
And I'm about to get so messed up like I really need that
Someone remind me, is this a party?
Cause I've been here too much, too long
I don't really wanna dance and I hate most of these songs
Plus my feet are killing me
I don't really wanna dance, shoulda stayed my ass at home
I'm sittin' on this couch and my cellphone checking your name
Driving myself bat-shit crazy, going insane
Though there's a lot of fine boys in here, still thinkin' about you
I should try to pretend I'm happy for a minute or two
They playing Weezy, is this a party or what?Annotate
Cause I've been here too much, too long
I don't really wanna dance and I hate most of these songs
Plus my feet are killing me
I don't really wanna dance, shoulda stayed my ass at home
See, I told your ass not to go to that damn party
You don't listen, now you singing this damn sorry song
We coulda stayed home and watched Martin
Bruh Man from the 5th floor with the milk of carton
Comin' through your window, we pillow talkin' util the morning
Hit the studio, making love, (?) and let you recorded
Put it on your album, that shit'll be so retarded
Damn your pretty body I just wanna polaroid it
Blow it up, put it on my wall so we can both enjoy it
Taking it down if my friends come over so they don't focus on it
Cause I'm selfish with my baby, never felt this from a lady
Got me going crazy, all them clubs janky
And you need to come back home to me
Giving your body a massage with the cozy feet
New perfume, earlobes are sweet
Forget them ghetto ass clubs with the phony VIPs
Cause I've been here too much, too long
I don't really wanna dance and I hate most of these songs
Plus my feet are killing me
I don't really wanna dance, shoulda stayed my ass at home
Just stayed my ass at home
I know I shoulda stayed my ass at home
But my girls kept calling me
Like Elle you gotta get your ass outta the house for a minute
No I really wasn't with with it
I came to this shit anyway, what can I say?
Ice cold as the champagne Charmaine keeps spilling on me
DJ playing all these love songs like I really need that
And I'm about to get so messed up like I really need that
Someone remind me, is this a party?
Cause I've been here too much, too long
I don't really wanna dance and I hate most of these songs
Plus my feet are killing me
I don't really wanna dance, shoulda stayed my ass at home
I'm sittin' on this couch and my cellphone checking your name
Driving myself bat-shit crazy, going insane
Though there's a lot of fine boys in here, still thinkin' about you
I should try to pretend I'm happy for a minute or two
They playing Weezy, is this a party or what?Annotate
Cause I've been here too much, too long
I don't really wanna dance and I hate most of these songs
Plus my feet are killing me
I don't really wanna dance, shoulda stayed my ass at home
See, I told your ass not to go to that damn party
You don't listen, now you singing this damn sorry song
We coulda stayed home and watched Martin
Bruh Man from the 5th floor with the milk of carton
Comin' through your window, we pillow talkin' util the morning
Hit the studio, making love, (?) and let you recorded
Put it on your album, that shit'll be so retarded
Damn your pretty body I just wanna polaroid it
Blow it up, put it on my wall so we can both enjoy it
Taking it down if my friends come over so they don't focus on it
Cause I'm selfish with my baby, never felt this from a lady
Got me going crazy, all them clubs janky
And you need to come back home to me
Giving your body a massage with the cozy feet
New perfume, earlobes are sweet
Forget them ghetto ass clubs with the phony VIPs
Cause I've been here too much, too long
I don't really wanna dance and I hate most of these songs
Plus my feet are killing me
I don't really wanna dance, shoulda stayed my ass at home
Just stayed my ass at home
I know I shoulda stayed my ass at home
But my girls kept calling me
Like Elle you gotta get your ass outta the house for a minute
No I really wasn't with with it
I came to this shit anyway, what can I say?
Credits
Writer(s): Warren Felder, Andrew Wansel, Ronald Raleik Colson, Gabrielle Serene Varner, Steve Mostyn, Darold D. Brown, Rossano Francesco Vannelli
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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