Oh my god, this is my song
Am I crazy?
Okay this letter's from Jeff from Nashville
Said he met a chick last year mad chill
Kept it on a hundred couple dates getting mad real
Then she flipped the switch, so much screaming need an Advil
See her family Boca, as to a muy loca
She lived for the part, lined up on that
More crave by the day, though she love me
She ain't good at doing much
But she good at spending money like
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Sorry for partying
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I'm talking bad shit, it's tragic
See the first time we met it's like magic
A bad chick
Now I gotta tell her listen
That's it
She was broke from the first time I smashed it
So I rode up to the club, my dojo
Met 4 tonight, they all 4 loco
You know them girls try breaking up the band
Yeah yeah, we caught up
Oh no you don't, she grabbing my phone
She sucked in my happen without his patron
But just because it was in my pic
Doesn't mean they had the pleasure being on my dick
Just sitting there at home for a cellphone ring
Yeah I know you waiting for a ring
It's the same story but we never get it straight
Man I used to call her Becky now she miscommunicate
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(just tell me I'm not crazy)
In your head
crazy, crazy
Ok stop
(I hate you)