Tight Jeans - Lyrics - Still Ghetto - Jaheim

Title: Tight Jeans
Album: Still Ghetto
Artist: Jaheim
Composer(s): Edward Ferrell, Balewa Muhammad, Sylvester Jordan, Darren Lighty, Clifton Lighty

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Lyric:
You been looking real good lately
Makin? me feel I know we?re friends but listen up
You can?t be coming around me in tight jeans
Makin' me weak, I think you really trust me too much

You and me been cool
Since back in middle school
Like when we used to clown
And run around and act a fool

Now that were older I been noticing you bustin' out those jeans
Never seen that coming up think you know what I mean
When other niggaz tried to holla had to let 'em know
Told 'em none of y?all ain?t good enough the truth be told

'Cause when I first figure out what love was
I was a young blood
And you?ve always been that treasure
We?ve always been together

Your not that little girl I once knew anymore
I will see you fitting your clothes so well I can tell
Your not that girl from junior high school that?s for sure
Your changing the rules now that your fine as hell

You been looking real good lately
Makin? me feel I know we?re friends but listen up
You can?t be coming around me in tight jeans
Makin' me weak, I think you really trust me too much

Now there you go again on my lap
Thinking that I?m in control and I won't react
When your form is grown so phat
'Bout time you know for all that it?s worth

Your killing me softly in those product tops and mini skirts
Hots just puttin? work all up in my face girl what did you think
That I?d stop being a man when you came on the block

Showin' your promises on the back of that bike
Showin' just what I like
And a woman if you get it you had it comin', girl

You're not that little girl I once knew anymore
I will see you fitting your clothes so well I can tell
Your not that girl from junior high school that?s for sure
Your changing the rules now that you're fine as hell

You been looking real good lately
Makin? me feel I know we?re friends but listen up
You can?t be coming around me in tight jeans
Makin' me weak, I think you really trust me too much

You been looking real good lately
Makin? me feel I know we?re friends but listen up
You can?t be coming around me in tight jeans
Makin' me weak, I think you really trust me too much

You been looking real good lately
Makin? me feel I know we?re friends but listen up
You can?t be coming around me in tight jeans
Makin' me weak, I think you really trust me too much

I know you trust me too much, girl
You really trust me too much
I think that you trust me but too much, girl
I know you trust me too much

I can't take it no more
Gotta let it be known
I been watching you, ooh
I been waitin' on you
Hey, hey, hey
Till you put my hands on you, girl

You been looking real good lately
Makin? me feel I know we?re friends but listen up
You can?t be coming around me in tight jeans
Makin' me weak, I think you really trust me too much

You been looking real good lately
Makin? me feel I know we?re friends but listen up
You can?t be coming around me in tight jeans
Makin' me weak, I think you really trust me too much

You been looking real good lately
Makin? me feel I know we?re friends but listen up
You can?t be coming around me in tight jeans
Makin' me weak, I think you really trust me too much
Dear baby

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In Those Jeans (Remix) - Lyrics - Ginuwine

Title: In Those Jeans (Remix)
Artist: Ginuwine
Composer(s): Elgin Lumpkin, Jerry Vines, Harvey Hester

Lyric:
Is there room for me
Any more room
Is there room
Ooh

Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room?
Any more room for me
In those jeans
Really thick, like I like it
Tell me is there any more room for me
In those jeans
Lookin' tasty really scrumptous
Tell me is there any more room for me
In those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room any more room for me?

Got out my ride seen you from afar
And I couldn't stop myself from lookin' hard
You wore these jeans, girl you wore these jeans
And you made a thug wanna cry somethin' terrible
I had to have, have you for myself
Baby you don't know what those jeans do to me
Make me wanna get down on one knee
You've got that thunder and it only makes me wonder
How it feels to get up in those jeans?

Those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room?
Any more room for me
In those jeans
Really thick like I like it
Tell me
Is there any more room for me
In those jeans
Lookin' tasty really scrumptous
Tell me
Is there any more room for me?
In those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room?
Any more room for me
Is there any more?

You are the bomb, girl you're tight to death
Baby I don't know the words to say to you
All that I know, baby all I know
Is that I'm lovin' what I see
And I'm feelin' you
I wanna know all I wanna know
Is that, if I can have what's up in those jeans
Baby can I have what's up in those jeans?
Don't get alarmed 'cause I don't mean no harm
But I love the way you wear those jeans

Levis, Prada, Baby Phat
I love them
Love the way you're wearin' that
I love them
Calvin, Iceberg, Sergio
I love them
Tryin' to get inside of those

Lookin' good, plenty tight
Is there room? any more room for me
Is there anymore room?
In those jeans
Really thick like I like it
Tell me is there any more room for me
If I was in
In those jeans
Lookin' tasty really scrumptous
Tell me is there any more room for me?
Is there anymore?
In those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room any more room for me?
C'mon listen

I wanna say that them jeans
Lookin' good fittin' right
Baby damn those jeans
Any kind doesn't matter
You can wear them you look fine
Baby damn those jeans
Any time that I see you
I want in you wear 'em well
Baby damn those jeans
You the shit, you the bomb
All I wanna know is can I have
Whats in those jeans
Can I get in those?

Those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room? any more room for me
Is there anymore room
In those jeans
Really thick like I like it
Thick like I like it
Tell me is there any more room for me?
In those jeans
Lookin' tasty really scrumptous
Is there any
Tell me is there any more room for me
Is there any
In those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room
Any more room for me

Anymore
Those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room? any more room for me
In those jeans

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965dba766df5842afbc0889609405d8e

In Those Jeans - Lyrics - Senior - Ginuwine

Title: In Those Jeans
Album: Senior
Artist: Ginuwine
Composer(s): Elgin Lumpkin, Jerry Vines, Harvey Hester

Lyric:
Is there room for me
Any more room
Is there room
Ooh

Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room?
Any more room for me
In those jeans
Really thick, like I like it
Tell me is there any more room for me
In those jeans
Lookin' tasty really scrumptous
Tell me is there any more room for me
In those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room any more room for me?

Got out my ride seen you from afar
And I couldn't stop myself from lookin' hard
You wore these jeans, girl you wore these jeans
And you made a thug wanna cry somethin' terrible
I had to have, have you for myself
Baby you don't know what those jeans do to me
Make me wanna get down on one knee
You've got that thunder and it only makes me wonder
How it feels to get up in those jeans?

Those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room?
Any more room for me
In those jeans
Really thick like I like it
Tell me
Is there any more room for me
In those jeans
Lookin' tasty really scrumptous
Tell me
Is there any more room for me?
In those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room?
Any more room for me
Is there any more?

You are the bomb, girl you're tight to death
Baby I don't know the words to say to you
All that I know, baby all I know
Is that I'm lovin' what I see
And I'm feelin' you
I wanna know all I wanna know
Is that, if I can have what's up in those jeans
Baby can I have what's up in those jeans?
Don't get alarmed 'cause I don't mean no harm
But I love the way you wear those jeans

Levis, Prada, Baby Phat
I love them
Love the way you're wearin' that
I love them
Calvin, Iceberg, Sergio
I love them
Tryin' to get inside of those

Lookin' good, plenty tight
Is there room? any more room for me
Is there anymore room?
In those jeans
Really thick like I like it
Tell me is there any more room for me
If I was in
In those jeans
Lookin' tasty really scrumptous
Tell me is there any more room for me?
Is there anymore?
In those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room any more room for me?
C'mon listen

I wanna say that them jeans
Lookin' good fittin' right
Baby damn those jeans
Any kind doesn't matter
You can wear them you look fine
Baby damn those jeans
Any time that I see you
I want in you wear 'em well
Baby damn those jeans
You the shit, you the bomb
All I wanna know is can I have
Whats in those jeans
Can I get in those?

Those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room? any more room for me
Is there anymore room
In those jeans
Really thick like I like it
Thick like I like it
Tell me is there any more room for me?
In those jeans
Lookin' tasty really scrumptous
Is there any
Tell me is there any more room for me
Is there any
In those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room
Any more room for me

Anymore
Those jeans
Lookin' good plenty tight
Is there room? any more room for me
In those jeans

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71c79faca9ba7fbd9457487643773452

Feeling Me - Lyrics - Tha Smokin' Nephew - Baby Bash

Title: Feeling Me
Album: Tha Smokin' Nephew
Artist: Baby Bash
Composer(s): Nathan Perez, Russell Lee Atkins, Ronald Ray Bryant

Lyric:
She's in love with a hustla
She only messing with them suckas
Looking so good, little tight jeans on and G string on
And I know that she be feeling me

She in love with a hustla, someone she could trust uh
Someone she could get down with, 'cause she don't mess with suckas
Sleep all day, and grind all night
Living in the fast lane, the game's nothing polite
So I'm laced up tight, 'cause I ain't into lagging
She love to watch me in the mirror when I'm doing my stabbing
And she ain't into punks, giving 'em bruises and bumps
And she know I blow big, so she be twisting my blunts
That's real talk, coming from a real hog on the block
She love the playboy lifestyle, the knots and the rocks
And even though sometime, it might seem strange
She wouldn't trade it in, with none of she hangs

She's in love with a hustla
She only messing with them suckas
Looking so good, little tight jeans on and G string on
And I know that she be feeling me

Well now she might of caught my ass like once or twice
But she'd rather stick with me, instead of rolling the dice
'Cause she know I'm official, so why take a chance
And end up with a over jealous sucka romance
Love to see me get the lapdance every now and then, huh
Never fuck around with her stripper girlfriends, huh
Now that's living like, who's the boss
Yeah she liking the money, but she loving my sauce
Even though she approached by them big time ballas
She ain't having that 'cause ain't another like papa
And her parents just don't understand
What kind of man she in love with, but she don't give a damn

She's in love with a hustla
She only messing with them suckas
Looking so good, little tight jeans on and G string on
And I know that she be feeling me
Looking so good, little tight jeans on and G string on
And I know that she be feeling me

One day we gone get it together
One day we gone keep it together
One day we gone get it together
One day we gone keep it together
One day we gone get it together
One day we gone keep it together
One day we gone get it together
One day we gone keep it together

She's in love with a hustla
She only messing with them suckas
Looking so good, little tight jeans on and G string on
And I know that she be feeling me
Looking so good, little tight jeans on and G string on
And I know that she be feeling me
Looking so good

She's in love with a hustla
She only messing with them suckas
Looking so good, little tight jeans on and G string on
And I know that she be feeling me
Looking so good, little tight jeans on and G string on
And I know that she be feeling me

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971ae570e0bb8b9ce837228fa5a4afad

Graffiti My Soul - Lyrics - What Will the Neighbours Say - Girls Aloud

Title: Graffiti My Soul
Album: What Will the Neighbours Say
Artist: Girls Aloud
Composer(s): Timothy Martin Powell, Frederik Ferry Ridderhof, Peter F. Garnefski, Hans Boellaard, Johan J. Hans Weekhout, Brian Thomas Higgins, Shawn Lee Mahan, Lisa Cowling, Miranda Eleanor D Cooper

Lyric:
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fist full of love that's coming your way, baby
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fist full of love that's coming your way, baby
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fist full of love that's coming your way, baby

I'm hanging on a wire
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fist full of love that's coming your way, baby
Come baby, come, you know what I mean

And the drum beat's rising higher
Bang goes my self control
I got your name on my face your face on my mind
Baby come, baby come, graffiti my soul

We should be getting it on
Fly DJ's playing my song
Why don't you take me head on?

We should be getting somewhere
Some kind of cool love affair
Don't act as if you don't care
You dream of touching me there

Your kisses taste of cyanide
And that's no good for me
An open heart is suicide
In my philosophy

I need a walking talking mannequin
That simply folds away
And never questions anything
I've got to say

No more explanations
You're never gonna know
You could kill my reputation
I don't do heavy loads

No more conversations
You can't carve up the world
It's a dangerous occupation
Talking to a girl

I'm complicated
And I celebrate it
You're getting jaded
You're fascinated

I'm complicated
(Out the bedroom, down the stairs)
And I celebrate it
(Along the carpet, no one cares)
You tell me you hate it
(On the table, on to the floor)
You're fascinated
(It's procreation and nothing more)

Dance if you want till the dirty is done
'Cos we're stars in the dead of the night
But if you're looking for romance
Or a chance to reflect in the sun
Baby, I'm gonna put up a fight

And you can dance if you want
Till you fall out of space
And you crash in the back of the car
But if you wanna have the kids and the cash
Then get out of my face don't push my love too far

I'm hanging on a wire
Spike heels and skin tight jeans
I've got a fist full of love that's coming your way, baby
Come baby, come, you know what I mean

And the drum beat's rising higher
Bang goes my self control
I got your name on my face, your face on my mind
Baby come, baby come, graffiti my soul
Baby come, baby come, graffiti my soul
Baby come, baby come, graffiti my soul

And the drum beat's rising higher
Bang goes my self control
I got your name on my face your face on my mind
Baby come, baby come graffiti my soul

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698a0b48ca1e945a4e4c70c6849b5c5e

I Like It - Lyrics - Naked - Marques Houston

Title: I Like It
Album: Naked
Artist: Marques Houston
Composer(s): D Newton, L Stephens, Christopher Stokes, Cory Bold, Marques Houston

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
This ya boy MH, I'm back, niggas
Ladies, get ready
This is a Corey boy exclusive
Y'all ready?

I like it with your tight jeans on
I can see your thong, you know it turns me on
And I like it when your pants hang low
When your tempo slow, you know it turns me on

You love it when I lick you low
Move fast and slow give it to you some more
You love it, yeah, I love it
You love it, yeah, I love it

Mami you're hot like, body like
Tongue ring up and down my shit like
Your ass shake the room kaboom like
I'm lovin' it how you lick it from the back like

It's about to get real juicy
Thong in your crack tattoo on your booty
We're gonna hit a club to get you in the mood see
Mama slow it down cause you're about to lose me

I like it with your tight jeans on
I can see your thong, you know it turns me on
And I like it when your pants hang low
When your tempo slow, you know it turns me on

You love it when I lick you low
Move fast and slow give it to you some more
You love it, yeah, I love it
You love it, yeah, I love it

Say ma what you doin'? Why them jeans still on?
I figured it was goin down when you smelled my cologne
You lookin' at me like you're ready to bone
I can lick you up and down while you rubbin' this bone

Baby so wet that I think she need a diaper
Been wanting to fuck since MH and Pied Piper
Anticipation gettin higher and higher
Lickin' your nipples like two pacifiers

I like it with your tight jeans on
I can see your thong, you know it turns me on
And I like it when your pants hang low
When your tempo slow, you know it turns me on

You love it when I lick you low
Move fast and slow give it to you some more
You love it, yeah, I love it
You love it, yeah, I love it

You got it
Come rock my
Fulfill my fantasy
Baby, you and me

You got it
Come rock my
Fulfill my fantasy
Baby, you and me

I was speechless when I peeped this
Use pastoral jeans on them ass cheeks fittin' ridiculous
Damn so hood, my niggas trickin' I ain't budgin' a fall back
It's all good you go home when you want to
Come when you want to

MH give 'em something they can crunk to
Intimidation never reached to my breadskin
Especially when them been franks rapped in rubber bands

In the club, I'm in the corner boy
Why you haters still broke on the corner boy?
I can run rap when I'm on the track with Corey boy
Back on snap behind the base more the noise

When I two-step you cant even join the boy
My move goin down your girl makin' all the noise
Tell her when I move I'm still on her boy
Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa on her boy

I like it with your tight jeans on
I can see your thong, you know it turns me on
And I like it when your pants hang low
When your tempo slow, you know it turns me on

You love it when I lick you low
Move fast and slow give it to you some more
You love it, yeah, I love it
You love it, yeah, I love it

Yeah, it's MH y'all
TUG, '05
Ra-Ra

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ef4f7ab1c1c03e117611bf437a324352

Ya Playin Yaself - Lyrics - Wrath Of The Math - Jeru The Damaja

Title: Ya Playin Yaself
Album: Wrath Of The Math
Artist: Jeru The Damaja
Composer(s): Chris E. Martin, Kendrick Jeru Davis

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Yo, are you a pimp, a hustler? No I'm not
Are you a man, and can you stand alone
Like a man has to sometimes? Yes I can

Are you willing, to go out there
And save the lives of our children
Even if it means losin' your own life? Yes I am
I believe you Jeru, you're ready
You've no-no-nothin' to worry about

Now, I don't push a Lex
Others had their turn to flex, Jeru is up next
All, these so called players up in the rap game
Got brothers on the corner sellin' cooked cocaine

It used to be La Toya and, Jim Hats
But now it's Uzis Macs and, G-packs of cracks
Everybody's psycho or some type of good fellow
But me, I keep it real that's all swine like Jello

Don't drink Cristal, and I can't stand Mo
Never received currency for movin' a kilo
Or an ounce, make 'em bounce to this fake-pimp free flow
I never knew hustlers, confessed in stereo

Or on video get caught you'll know who turned
State's evidence, murder weapon, confession and fingerprints
Mama always said, "Watch what comes out your mouth"
Tight case for the D A from here to down South

Knowledge wisdom understanding like King Solomon's wealth
You're a player but only because you be playin' yourself

With all that Big Willie talk, hop, ya playin' yaself
With all that big gun talk, bop, ya playin' yaself
With all that rah rah rah, ya playin' yaself
Ya playin' yaself, ya playin' yaself

With all that rah rah rah, ya playin' yaself
With all that big gun talk, bop, ya playin' yaself
With all that Big Willie talk hop, ya playin yaself
Ya playin' yaself, ya playin' yaself

Now these ladies is lookin' pretty from city to city
I refined a few I met, around the country
The nitty gritty, it's all reality, no question
Actual fact like tight jeans cause yeast infections

And sisters with good minds get no respect when
Their ass is all hangin' out, playin' the bar section
Of the club shake what your mama gave ya, back to the lab
I drop the truth, 'cause rhymin' is more than just my craft

Or a way to get ass or fast cash or blasted
Black women, make sure you're respected
When niggaz is kickin' that old off the wall shit,
Let 'em know from jump, "Dead it", you're not ignorant

Knowledge, wisdom, understandin' is the key to wealth
Put some clothes on that ass if you respect yourself

With those hooker type wears, hon, ya playin' yaself
With those skin tight jeans, baby, ya playin' yaself
Everythin' all exposed ya playin' yaself
Ya playin' yaself, ya playin' yaself

Everythin' all exposed ya playin' yaself
With those skin tight jeans, baby, ya playin' yaself
With those hooker type wears, hon, ya playin' yaself
Ya playin' yaself, ya playin' yaself

Now, I don't bust a tec, bubble drugs
In the projects, or use mics to sell sex
Niggaz, nowadays is all about this
So much ying yang, it's ridiculous

If you got so much cheese where are the black distributors
And these record companies shake 'em down like mobsters
But impostors, like commercial locks are not rastas
Always fakin' moves, never, makin' moves

Asses shake, bottles pop, the government is breakin' down
You fools, you work all week and give the devil
Back his loot for jewels
And the steak on your plate is filled with chemicals
Still, brothers leave brothers all battered and bruised

On the streets won't see snakes on my feet
The race is on, but I won't compete in this competition
Because I have a greater mission
I hope that you listen

Knowledge, wisdom and understanding brings, long life and health
Think anything else and ya playin' yaself

So all that Big Willie talk, hop, ya, playin' yaself
And all those skin tight jeans, hon, ya playin' yaself
And all that rah rah rah, ya, playin' yaself
Ya, playin' yaself, ya, playin' yaself

And all those hooker type wears, baby, ya playin' yaself
And all that big gun talk money, ya playin' yaself
Everything all exposed, ya playin' yaself
Ya playin' yaself, ya playin' yaself

I don't play

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357dc349013d2632ceb00e5d68904ab3

Tight - Lyrics - Rah Digga

Title: Tight
Artist: Rah Digga
Composer(s): Rashia Tashan Fisher, Richard Evans, Walt Dewgarde

Lyric:
Yeah, Rah Digga, Flipmode, Outsidaz
Shit tight, down to the coochie
Yeah, check it

And I say what's tight
'Cause a sista write rhymes all day and all night
Dwellin' South of the Hudson, New Jerusalem
In seclusion, using fake pseudonyms

Mind travels like a Skitzo on two tabs
With doo rags hangin' from my pockets
Me, the rap bitch that goes back to pediatrics
Early left rappers like you were straight vexin'

So recognize, I make a nigga eyes come alive
Off of five two fives, disguise the camouflage
I shoot a virus out of my spirals with mad priors
For takin' mad niggaz titles

Wetter than a resevoir, lurking in the bushes
Striking blows like Chesamar code-name 'Hasana'
Warmer than a bomber, hotter than the region of Ghana
Get loot like that Trump bitch, Ivana

Now, who be writin' rhymes all night
Rah Digga in tha house and my plans is tight
Peace to the ones that don't bite
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight

A Black Queen, ya best believe my black jeans won't say Paco
I swing to the Vill' for some waffles and some beef falafel
Rap very tight liquor got me different
Dirtier than an overseas shipment of KI's

I write these Tight Buttas, creme de la guttas, call me Sheik Digga
Plotting over loops like the eight figures
Baby I'm hard, represent the feminist God
That gets blunted, watch rhymers runneth, over

See me in the camel Range Rover
Chop and I won't stop for Jake
And keep heat by the waist for those that playa hate
Now, show you the way to blow, better than I tell you

Word to my beeper and my cellular, what? Polo curls
Diggin' all the rapper's shit like they go-go girls

Now, who be writin' rhymes all night
Rah Digga in tha house and my plans is tight
Peace to the ones that don't bite
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight

Who the tightest? I rock with laryngitis
Gold's good for Midas, but I want the highest
So don't try me 'cuz I be the bitch
I'll leave you twisted like a thug with blonde hair

I blow up the spot like Dennis Scott
Go forward, your chance of defeatin' me is morbid
'Cuz I get you open like the comin' of the Pope
When I group shit tighter than a 3 piece suit

Peace to niggaz I rhyme wit'
My Outsidaz correspondents be more fluid than embalmin'
I decompose, any rapper to the bone
Down to they X and Y chromosome

So 'See My Name' tagged in bold or Italics
'Cuz I'll be the only one salvaged
Number one imported like Beck's
Tighter than three or more heads in a CRX

Now, who be writin' rhymes all night
Rah Digga in tha house and my plans is tight
Peace to the ones that don't bite
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight

Now, who be writin' rhymes all night
Rah Digga in tha house and my plans is tight
Peace to the ones that don't bite
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight

Tight, tight, aight?
And the plans is tight
Tight, tight, tight
Tight, tight, aight?
And the plans is tight
Tight, tight, tight
One, two, three, four

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Tight (Remix) - Lyrics - Rah Digga

Title: Tight (Remix)
Artist: Rah Digga
Composer(s): Rashia Tashan Fisher, Richard Evans, Walt Dewgarde

Lyric:
Yeah, Rah Digga, Flipmode, Outsidaz
Shit tight, down to the coochie
Yeah, check it

And I say what's tight
'Cause a sista write rhymes all day and all night
Dwellin' South of the Hudson, New Jerusalem
In seclusion, using fake pseudonyms

Mind travels like a Skitzo on two tabs
With doo rags hangin' from my pockets
Me, the rap bitch that goes back to pediatrics
Early left rappers like you were straight vexin'

So recognize, I make a nigga eyes come alive
Off of five two fives, disguise the camouflage
I shoot a virus out of my spirals with mad priors
For takin' mad niggaz titles

Wetter than a resevoir, lurking in the bushes
Striking blows like Chesamar code-name 'Hasana'
Warmer than a bomber, hotter than the region of Ghana
Get loot like that Trump bitch, Ivana

Now, who be writin' rhymes all night
Rah Digga in tha house and my plans is tight
Peace to the ones that don't bite
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight

A Black Queen, ya best believe my black jeans won't say Paco
I swing to the Vill' for some waffles and some beef falafel
Rap very tight liquor got me different
Dirtier than an overseas shipment of KI's

I write these Tight Buttas, creme de la guttas, call me Sheik Digga
Plotting over loops like the eight figures
Baby I'm hard, represent the feminist God
That gets blunted, watch rhymers runneth, over

See me in the camel Range Rover
Chop and I won't stop for Jake
And keep heat by the waist for those that playa hate
Now, show you the way to blow, better than I tell you

Word to my beeper and my cellular, what? Polo curls
Diggin' all the rapper's shit like they go-go girls

Now, who be writin' rhymes all night
Rah Digga in tha house and my plans is tight
Peace to the ones that don't bite
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight

Who the tightest? I rock with laryngitis
Gold's good for Midas, but I want the highest
So don't try me 'cuz I be the bitch
I'll leave you twisted like a thug with blonde hair

I blow up the spot like Dennis Scott
Go forward, your chance of defeatin' me is morbid
'Cuz I get you open like the comin' of the Pope
When I group shit tighter than a 3 piece suit

Peace to niggaz I rhyme wit'
My Outsidaz correspondents be more fluid than embalmin'
I decompose, any rapper to the bone
Down to they X and Y chromosome

So 'See My Name' tagged in bold or Italics
'Cuz I'll be the only one salvaged
Number one imported like Beck's
Tighter than three or more heads in a CRX

Now, who be writin' rhymes all night
Rah Digga in tha house and my plans is tight
Peace to the ones that don't bite
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight

Now, who be writin' rhymes all night
Rah Digga in tha house and my plans is tight
Peace to the ones that don't bite
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight

Tight, tight, aight?
And the plans is tight
Tight, tight, tight
Tight, tight, aight?
And the plans is tight
Tight, tight, tight
One, two, three, four

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d4655ed2a50f82363318131a09e735dc

The Walk - Lyrics - The Time

Title: The Walk
Artist: The Time
Composer(s): Jamie Starr

Lyric:
Attention everybody, I'm gonna show you a brand new dance
It's called 'The walk, the walk'
Just let your body talk 'til you're deep in a trance
You don't need no partner, you can walk all alone
Whenever you feel the groove just let your body move
Walkin' to a beat of your own

Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk

Attention everybody, I said it ain't hard to do
Just walk, walk, let your body talk, walkin' so cool
Attention everybody, I said I just shined my shoes
So you can let your body talk
Just watch where you walk or your life you're gonna lose
In other words, I'll walk you 'til you're dead

Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk

The days of dancing in one place are gone
And honey, you know you can't dance with them tight jeans on
If you try to cop a dip, you trip, slip, and fall
Walking's for the cool baby, put on a camisole

Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk

Who me? I wear baggies, zip, snap, and drop
Easy access baby
Yes, before you get a chance to holler stop
Besides, Rollo likes his freedom
Ain't nothin' like a fresh pair of baggies
Now I know that's right

Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk

Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' for?
Walk
Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' for?
Walk

Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' for?
Walk
Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' for?
Walk

Damn, I'm 'bout to walk a hole in my Stacy Adams
What time is it?
Little cute guitar player, make your mama proud
I want all of Detroit City to stand up, clap your hands
Alright you Polaroids, stay in time with the drummer
Jellybean, don't be so mean

Mr. Jelly, turn it around, bass man walk downtown
Go on and walk, Terry
I don't think they heard ya
What time is it? Rock City
Well okay, if you put it that way
Ain't nobody bad, Cheerio

We don't like policemen
We don't like new wave
We don't like television

Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk

Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk

Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk

Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk

Everybody walk your body

Say, hey baby, where you goin'?
I'm going home, I can't dance like that
Well baby, that's because you got those jeans on to tight
Now let's just take 'em off

What do you mean, "Let's just take 'em off?"
Come on, take 'em off, I got something for you to wear, here, put this on
Uh, you always keep lingerie in your glove department?
None of my women wear gloves, now put this on

But
But my ass, hey, a play on words
But all the girls will stare at me
All the girls in this neighborhood already wear camisoles

I know, but
But, but that's because it's cool, now let's get them jeans off
Okay, but I'm warning you
Warning me about what?

God, this zipper's tight, Here, why don't you lay down?
Um, that's what I'm tryin' to tell you
Stop tryin' to tell me things and pull
But

Come on, pull
I'm warning you
Mary, sweet mother Jesus
I told you

Damn baby, how'd you get all that in them jeans?
It wasn't easy
I know that's right, well, I think you'd be more comfortable in this
I'm sure I would, I don't know

Hurry up Grace, song's almost over
My name's not Grace
I know that, but hurry up Grace
Man, these are weird, I guess the tag goes in the back

Hurry up
Okay, okay, how do I look?
Almost as good as me, now let's go

Hey Morris, what time is it?
Who's the lovely lady? Introduce us
I'll introduce you to a headache
If you don't get out of my face

Okay baby, now check this out. We gonna walk 'til the song's over
In other words, meet me at the bar in 32 measures, cool?
Cool
And if you're good, I'll let you work the stick in my ride

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f1c3642e3aac7b67ae53d95a6be327ac

Mercy - Lyrics - Lucky - Melissa Etheridge

Title: Mercy
Album: Lucky
Artist: Melissa Etheridge
Composer(s): Melissa Etheridge, Jonathan Taylor

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Well I have lived ten years plus ten
And ten and ten again
I have seen too much to pretend
Then you wanted to come in

I have survived all of the lies, they made me wise
The locks and walls and the peace it buys
Still when I look into your eyes
It's a surprise when you say

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be okay
Just hold on tight
Let it all go away

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be okay
Just hold on tight
Let it all go away

Well I plead mercy, mercy baby
I do not know what this all means
It's been awhile, since I've been stylin' in
Just my jacket and my jeans

It hurts to walk, it hurts to talk
It hurts to think about it, shout about it
Could I be sure without a doubt
That you could never live without

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be okay
Just hold on tight
Let it all go away

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be okay
Just hold on tight
Let it all go away

I want to fall in you
Crawl in you
Surrender, all in you now
Could I be sure in you
Pure in you
Finding cure in you
Now I plead
Have mercy on me, oh

Now I am kneeling at the altar
In the temple of your eyes
And I am asking for a miracle
I have been too long paralyzed when you say

Get up, stand up
Climb the rope of hope and open up again
All the peace you say is promised me
Seems too much to comprehend

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be okay
Just hold on tight
Let it all go away

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be okay
Just hold on tight
Let it all go away

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be okay
Just hold on tight
Let it all go away

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be okay
Just hold on tight
Let it all go away

It's gonna be alright
It's gonna be okay
Just hold on tight
Let it all go away
Mercy

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0f8c32400eb2312e193f1ea385a307ef

Twang - Lyrics - Wooden Leather - Nappy Roots

Title: Twang
Album: Wooden Leather
Artist: Nappy Roots
Composer(s): Vito Tisdale, Kenneth Anthony, Brian K. Scott, Andre S Brissett, William Rahsaan Hughes, Melvin Adams, Ron Wilson

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
What is it you tryna hide
Them jeans so tight you know ain't nothin'
The way workin' 'em be hurtin' 'em
You better watch it girl, you know I got you girl

No, I am not your average country boy
I'm a savage, don't ask if I want some more
Let you have it, there you go
Girl, I will grab it, slap it, flip you, rub it down

See you make me want it in ways, I ain't supposed to say
Wanna kiss you in places, I shouldn't put my face
See you got my attention for real in a major way
Ain't no need to stop it girl go on keep boppin' girl

What is it that you tryin' to hide off in them pockets girl?
Them jeans so tight you know ain't nothin' in them pockets girl
The way you workin' 'em be hurtin' 'em just stop it girl
You better watch it girl, you know I got you girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl

Yo, caught up in the song bitch, what you call drunk?
Damn this mothafucker even got here drunk
Strip them down what you call skunk
It's all up in the atmosphere pass that blunt
All y'all trippin' off what the country boy say
Let me get another shot of Grand Marnier
And a double shot of Jack the fact
Where the hell is Buffalo at with half the sack?
Look at all these broads with asses fat
Knowin' Goddern well what she dressin' at
And when they play the right track where them yeagas at
Shorty don't get mad at me when ya ass is smacked
That's all I can say when you backin' that
Big, fine, chunky, donkey back inside my lap
Do the damn thing you gon' mack the mack
But don't get mad at me 'cause I trap the rat

What is it that you tryin' to hide off in them pockets girl?
Them jeans so tight you know ain't nothin' in them pockets girl
The way you workin' 'em be hurtin' 'em just stop it girl
You better watch it girl, you know I got you girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl

I got the cat, I'm a lumberjack
Baby doll let me see your belly roll
Here kitty kitty kitty, got me giddy
Lookin' sweeter than a jelly roll
This reminds me, it's so nice yeah
I asked ya twice and floss so icy
What ya need is if I feed ya, fuck ya
Try to say no that's gonna be pricey
Aw now, me pay for no poonanny not just like me
I got a girl back at the crib and all the time she ride me
And when I pull this hot tamale out my pants just bite me
I got more rhythm than the Wings
Why don't you come and ride me?

What is it that you tryin' to hide off in them pockets girl?
Them jeans so tight you know ain't nothin' in them pockets girl
The way you workin' 'em be hurtin' 'em just stop it girl
You better watch it girl, you know I got you girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl
Move it, keep bouncin' shorty, move, now shake it girl

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7d745f7977823641c9ec6a63a9c6f7cc

You'Re The Bomb - Lyrics - Imajin

Title: You'Re The Bomb
Artist: Imajin
Composer(s): Timothy Monroe Allen, Larry Louis Ii Campbell, Jolyon Ward Skinner

Lyric:
Bomb Biggty Bomb ah baby baby biggy biggy

24 Hours since I met ya, and I can't get you off my mine, you're so
Fine
I can't wait until we get together and spend a little quality time

And we roll, roll, it's all I eyes on you, you've got me open and I got
It good ohhh you're da bomb

I wanna sport you like a lexus coop I wanna make you my boo 'cause
You're da bomb, you're da bomb, yeah you're da bomb bomb biggy bomb baby baby
Biggy biggy, I'll be on you like your tight blue jeans, you're turning me on
Your shorty of my dreams cause you're da bomb, you're da bomb baby yeah
You're da bomb. bomb biggy bomb a baby babe biggy biggy

Girl I wanna show you off that everybody peeps your style I'm gonna
Treat you like a queen cause girl you know you fly

And we roll, roll, it's all I eyes on you, you've got me open and I got
It good ohhh you're da bomb

It's cool like that, that all homies wanna get with ya, can't nobody
Take ya from me, cause your mine o mine o mine

And we roll, roll, it's all I eyes on you, you've got me open and I got
It good ohhh you're da bomb

I wanna sport you like a lexus coop I wanna make you my boo 'cause
You're da bomb, you're da bomb, yeah you're da bomb bomb biggy bomb baby baby
Biggy biggy, I'll be on you like your tight blue jeans, you're turning me on
Your shorty of my dreams cause you're da bomb, you're da bomb baby yeah
You're da bomb. bomb biggy bomb a baby babe biggy biggy

Let it flow yes you know I'm feeling, feeling it, I think I'm gonna
Get dippin it, dippin it, don't stop don't stop the groove I like the way
It's going down going down down baby

Just call me and I'm glad to be, be with you, all the things you
Asking of me and that can be no doubt that I'll always be your friend now
Until the very end

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I wanna sport you like a lexus coop I wanna make you my boo 'cause
You're da bomb, you're da bomb, yeah you're da bomb bomb biggy bomb baby baby
Biggy biggy, I'll be on you like your tight blue jeans, you're turning me on
Your shorty of my dreams cause you're da bomb, you're da bomb baby yeah
You're da bomb. bomb biggy bomb a baby babe biggy biggy

I wanna sport you like a lexus coop I wanna make you my boo 'cause
You're da bomb, you're da bomb, yeah you're da bomb bomb biggy bomb baby baby
Biggy biggy, I'll be on you like your tight blue jeans, you're turning me on
Your shorty of my dreams cause you're da bomb, you're da bomb baby yeah
You're da bomb. bomb biggy bomb a baby babe biggy biggy

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4de7b4b8dd2ab36da5fd8c719e9509d2

The Steal Of The Night - Lyrics - George Strait

Title: The Steal Of The Night
Artist: George Strait
Composer(s): William Shore, Alan R. Mevis, David Wills

Lyric:
The band had just started when they walked in the door
He sat her at a table and strolled out on the floor
He grabbed the first sweet thang that gave him the eye
And left the door open for the steal of the night
Three dances later she was still in her chair
He was still on the dance floor like he didn't care
So I eased on over, there was no ring in sight
And I found myself facing the steal of the night

She was the steal of the night
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He long hair flowing and her jeans so tight
I held her close and it felt so right
She was the steal of the night
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He left her lonely and the pickings were right
She was the steal of the night

We danced every slow one the band could play
Was it ever this easy for ole Jesse James
Had the gold in my hands and the banker was blind
Just inches away from the steal of the night
When the band stopped playing we walked to the car
As I closed the door he ran out of the bar
Saw him shaking his fist under the parking lot light
As I strolled away with the steal of the night

She was the steal of the night
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He long hair flowing and her jeans so tight
I held her close and it felt so right
She was the steal of the night
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He left her lonely and the pickings were right
She was the steal of the night

She was the steal of the night
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He long hair flowing and her jeans so tight
I held her close and it felt so right
She was the steal of the night
Oh yeah, she was the steal of the night
He left her lonely and the pickings were right
She was the steal of the night

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944b94b209aa93ff02318830774650f1

Sawdust On Her Halo - Lyrics - Tracy Lawrence

Title: Sawdust On Her Halo
Artist: Tracy Lawrence
Composer(s): Richard David Huckabay, Monty Russ Criswell

Lyric:
All week long, she loves to stay at home and hold me
She hangs her buckle in the closet, keeps her boots up on the shelf
Heaven knows the good Lord sent me an angel
But every Saturday night, she wants to raise a little hell

She likes kickin' up a lil' sawdust on her halo
Yeah, she'll whirl and twirl and twist and turn
While the jukebox plays and moans

Well, she paints on them tight blue jeans
And brings out the devil in me
She likes kickin' up a lil' sawdust on her halo

You can find her in the choir loft every Sunday
Winkin' at me, with two sore feet inside her high heel shoes
Every Saturday night, she'll dance 'til closing time
And still be there in the morning for Sunday school

She likes kickin' up a lil' sawdust on her halo
Yeah, she'll whirl and twirl and twist and turn
While the jukebox plays and moans

Well, she paints on them tight blue jeans
And brings out the devil in me
She likes kickin' up a lil' sawdust on her halo, kick it up, darlin'

She likes kickin' up a lil' sawdust on her halo
Yeah, she'll whirl and twirl and twist and turn
While the jukebox plays and moans

Well, she paints on them tight blue jeans
And brings out the devil in me
She likes kickin' up a lil' sawdust on her halo
Kickin' up a lil' sawdust on her halo

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b451cada7efeb9bdbfca485579489597

All Night Long - Lyrics - The Evolution of Robin Thicke - Robin Thicke

Title: All Night Long
Album: The Evolution of Robin Thicke
Artist: Robin Thicke
Composer(s): Robert Louis Daniels, James Gass, Dwayne Carter, Robin A Thicke

Lyric:
All night long I wait

Yeah, hey mama, kick him at the bed, I'm comin' over
Got somethin' to show ya, behold your eyes
I's wanna hold ya, just hold ya tight
Like a four leaf cover, I be goin' through

Your flowers, baby, your garden's open
A sight for sore eyes, good Lord, I'm focused
I can hardly notice anythin' other than
The woman with the face of my future baby mother

I'm a big man, she's a big girl
Put on them heels and put on that skirt
She wants to get naughty, we can get bad
She's a good girl with the good girl dance

I'm ice cream, she's a hot swirl
We can get married and live in our world
Let's play rough, we can get wild
I could go home but I'll stay, cheat but I won't

So I go by Weezy, love me or leave me
I hate to leave her, I think I need her
She's such a teaser, such a deeper
Yeah, we park it right here, baby, fuckin' need her

Do it to me, baby, I could be your receiver
Call me in the last minute and I can be your reliever
Call me at the last minute, I'll be there even
Late night, early mornin' or maybe this evenin'

She ain't no stunt, she ain't no filly
I wanna get mad but then not really
She's so fly, I could get mine
But I do it much better with her by my side

Love is alright, we gon' get blitzed tonight
All my girls wanna make that money
All my thugs wanna take that money
All night long, I'm a milk that honey so

All night long I wait for your lovin', babe
All night long I wait to tear you to pieces
All night long I wait for your lovin', babe
All night long I wait, all night long

All night long I wait to see you, babe
And watch the sun rise in your face
All night long I wait for you to play
And let my open arms take you away

She say she wanna be the one I get next to
Yes, boo, let's do that, who that?
You that one I want to be the one I get next to
Let's move, get you to the crib

Now, I see you musta one I wanna give sex to
Sex you, sexy you, you sexy devil, you
And you lookin' like you single
Thank you, have yourself a drink, I drink too

Saw you when I came through
Now I can't do nothin' if it ain't you
It's Wayne, boo, I don't do what them lames do
I come at you from a whole other angle

Now one time for the ladies in the high skirts
Two time for the ladies in the tight jeans
Three time for the ladies who ain't
Got no panties on, let's go home

All night long I wait for your lovin', babe
All night long I wait to tear you to pieces
All night long I wait for your lovin', babe
All night long I wait, all night long

All night long I wait for your lovin', babe
All night long I wait to tear you to pieces
All night long I wait for your lovin', babe
All night long I wait, all night long

All night long I wait for your lovin', babe
All night long I wait, all night long
All night long I wait for your lovin', babe
All night long I wait

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d508371f29d63e464e2d17f15cb96e8d

Do My - Lyrics - The Understanding - Memphis Bleek

Title: Do My
Album: The Understanding
Artist: Memphis Bleek
Composer(s): Shawn Carter, Malik Cox, Patrick Lawrence

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Turn that motherfucker louder
It's the Roc in this motherfucker, biotch
Oh yeah, bounce, uh uh, bounce
Yeah, yeah bounce, come on
Oh come, on bounce, come on

Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on

Do my ladies run it fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it, let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

Yo I come through, few of my man's
Scoop you and your friends
You, you, and you with the Timbs
In tight jeans, Chinese eyes

Indian hair, Black girl ass
Let me pour you a glass of Belvi
Tell me all about your past
Let me console your soul while I palm your ass

And your man did what? He ain't give you?
He cheated with her, I can't diss duke
I tell you this though get with this dude
I'll teach you about dough and show you what this do

It's a secret society, all we ask is trust but I don't freeze bitches
Just skeeze bitches break up happy homes
Just seize misses you'll never get her back once you get a yacht
How you love that? How you love that?

Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on

Do my ladies run it fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it, let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

Ay, yo back woods rollin', rap you can't hold 'em
ROC gear matchin' crews Bleek is chillin', Murda is chillin'
What more can I say? We still killin' 'em
Bags we still dealin' 'em, four wheels, we wheelin' them

Chicks like I'm feelin' him, yeah ma okay
Black jeans and Timberlands, give them adrenaline rush
Ladies know the difference between them niggas and us
We the R-O-C and we don't stop
They don't make a gun that we don't pop

Matter fact they don't make a car that we don't drop
Thought you knew they don't make jewels that we don't cop
What you knew? You actin' like the ROC ain't hot
Or the car that I cop ain't missin' a top

And even if they don't make drops that kind
I tear da roof off like I'm Busta Rhymes motherfucker

Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, come on
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
Yeah, yeah, yeah come on

Do my ladies run it fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air if it's the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it, let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
Throw a drink in the air let 'em know you still thuggin'

Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
Okay
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
Uh-huh, okay, uh-huh
Come on, come on

It's the R O C, we don't stop
R O C, we don't stop
R O C, we don't stop
Uh Memp Bleek, the understanding niggas
Get your mind right, ha ha

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46e07c7888ac44d60429060ec39ae8b5

Is This Love? - Lyrics - Chris Brown - Chris Brown

Title: Is This Love?
Album: Chris Brown
Artist: Chris Brown
Composer(s): Damon E Thomas, Antonio Dixon, Eric Dawkins, Harvey Mason Jr, Harvey Jr Mason, Steve Russell

Lyric:
17 tight jeans and she 'bout it
White beater T, pretty teeth, yeah she got ?em
Her body commands your attention
(She keeps it so gutta man)

Can I take you out?
(I?ll pay for it)
Girl, I got enough
(So enjoy it)

I?m hoping that your momma don?t mind
'Cause girl I gotta make you mine, yeah
Girl give me a chance, I?m a take it
Yeah, I know I?m young but I?ll take it
I just gotta know, yeah

(Is this love)
'Cause I gotta know
(Is this real)
Girl I gotta know
Is it you taking over my heart

(If it's love)
Then all my girls and them I gotta give them up
(It's love)
My playing days is over I gotta hang it up
I gotta know, I gotta know, yeah, is this love

If she gotta man I don?t care 'cause I need her
I gotta girl but if she want I?m a leave her
She can be the girl that I?m putting on
(We keep it so gutta man)

I?m a b the nigga that'll change her
Make that other dude like a stranger
I just gotta know, tell me

(Is this love)
'Cause I gotta know
(Is this real)
Girl I gotta know
Is it you taking over my heart

(If it's love)
Then all my girls and them I gotta give them up
(It's love)
My playing days is over I gotta hang it up
I gotta know, I gotta know, yeah, is this love

I ain?t been doin' much sleepin'
Just day dreamin'
'Cause she's all up in my head
And I can't take it

I ain?t never, ever felt like this
I gotta know, I gotta know, I gotta know
Is this how love really is
(Is this love)

'Cause I gotta know
(Is this real)
Girl I gotta know
Is it you taking over my heart

(If it's love)
Then all my girls and them I gotta give them up
(It's love)
My playing days is over I gotta hang it up
I gotta know, I gotta know, yeah

(Is this love)
'Cause I gotta know
(Is this real)
Girl I gotta know
Is it you taking over my heart

(If it's love)
Then all my girls and them I gotta give them up
(It's love)
My playing days is over I gotta hang it up
I gotta know, I gotta know, yeah, is this love

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