I'm gettin' tired of your s t
You don't never buy me nothin'
See Everytime you come around
You got to bring
Jim, James, Paul, Tyrone
See why can't we be by
ourselves, sometimes
See I've been having this on my mind
For a long time
I just want it to be
You and me
Like It used to be, Baby
But ya don't know how to act
So matter of fact
I think ya better call Tyrone
And Tell him come on,
Help you get your s t
You need to Call Tyrone
And tell him I said come on
Now everytime I ask
you for a little cash
You say no and turn right
around and ask me for some ass
Oh, Well hold up
Listen partna
I ain't no cheap thrill
Cause Miss Badu is
always comin' for real
And you know the deal, n a
Everytime we go somewhere
I gotta reach down in my purse
To pay your way and your homeboys way
And sometimes your cousin's way
They don't never have to pay
Don't have no cars
Hang around in bars
Try to hang around with stars
Like Badu
Imma tell you the truth
Show and prove or get the boot
I think ya better,
And tell him come on
Help you get your s t
You need to call Tyrone
"Hold On"
But ya can't use my phone
