Lyrics
Yo, what's up?
'Sup, baby? This your nigga, ha-ha
Nigga, where the fuck you at?
Mr. Good Dick, what ya say?
I said, "Where the fuck you at?"
What? How you feel?
How you say you feel? What?
I feel like you need to get home 'fore your shit be outside
Say, you need daddy to come through, and regulate, what?
Put this thang down, what?
It's all good, baby
It could be four, five, or six, you bet not be nowhere, laid up with no bitch
You better bring that home, to momma, don't be playin', and shit
If you get horny when you out, no need for eyein' them hoes
Why eat a burger, when you got steak, and potatoes at home?
A short drive is all it takes, I'm just a phone call away
Ain't no excuses, motherfucker, for you runnin' astray
I give it to you when you want it, ain't no other's like mine
Your ex-bitch can't fuck with this, so, don't be wastin' your time
The Indian, black mix, boy, like I told you, before
And we can iy-yi-yi the fur rug on my livin' room floor
And ain't nann hoe gon' bring it, like you know, I'ma bring it
And ain't nann hoe gon' freak it, like you know, I'ma freak it
And ain't nann hoe gon' shake it, like you know, I'ma shake it
And ain't nann hoe gon' take it, like you know, I'ma take it
So, don't make me come lookin' for you, pull you outta some mix
Then turn around, and bust you in your shit, before four, five, or six
I don't care if it's four, five, six, seven, eight, in the mornin'
Boy, you better call me, when you think you're gettin' horny
I don't give a damn 'bout who you with
Just as long as you ain't givin' up my shit
I don't care if it's four, five, six, seven, eight, in the mornin'
Boy, you better call me, when you think you're gettin' horny
I don't give a damn 'bout who you with
Just as long as you ain't givin' up my shit
You know me as your player, your pipe layer, your all night stayer
Off in your sauce, when you need your rocks off
Knock your socks off, baby, off the chain in this bitch