Well come!

Tuesday, 4 August 2015

Inside the Lyrics – “Can’t Live Without ‘Em”

Ya see I called her when I wasn’t searchinUnexpectedlyMy prototype sitting right here next to meSippin cappuccino and copying down some recipesFrom a Patty Labelle cookbook,You couldn’t help but lookShe sassy and a mother but she comfortable,You can tell she can real fly if she wanted toGo to the clubWithout spendin a dubWithout the red rugHave ‘em flockin like dovesPicture perfect, picture perfect that isBut its more than her exterior and style that I digShe got an aura from the soul like she 80 years oldI hit a lickThat’s what we say in them southern statesMean that something unexpected end up turnin out greatI mean uh yeahIt end up turnin up greatMeanin something unexpected end up turnin out greatYeah come on it end up turnin out greatMoney WatersSo like short, thick and sharp is my weaknessAin’t no secretLike they got telekinesisSittin on my lap fckin up my creasesActin she really didn’t wanna fckBut now it’s like I’ma freak bitchMad something like I savvyI a’int perfect but I’m workin on my habitsSo I’m steady tryn’a runaway from all that assBut sometimes I can’t run that fastIt’s comin down outsideSo I need the kind a woman who ain’t meltin in the rainLookin sexy in golashes under umbrella she aimsTo get out there and get itBut bring it back to her kingAnd I ain’t talkin vows and I ain’t talkin ringsTalkin old school shit when staying down was the thingWhen Marvin used to sing and Tammi used to singFirst Tammi left then Marvin leftNow hopin I still playinMoney WatersNow baby I ain’t changedIt’s the same ngga hereGot a man since we partedI been single for yearsMy baby regardlessYou shed your many tearsI know you think I’m heartlessThat’s why I’m in your earAnd we still try to sneak aroundKnowin that we probably shouldn’tWhen I say I don’t get down like thatYou say I’m Hollywood Come on now if he found out we were messin aroundWho side you gon’ be on when the shit go downWe workin harder than you knowCause if you knew you’d be arousedI’ma give you ass a straightAnd shut your mouth and sit ‘em downIt was all your shitWell keep your shitBut don’t call me and don’t text meWhen my Mojoe family hitI’m a Sunday morning playaPray the lord forgives my sinsBut this mouthpiece that he gave meGets me women call ‘em friendsSometimes I get to thinkinShould I do it one more timeThen them trumpets get to blowinAnd I’m back up on my grindBecause I’m unhThat’s all I got