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