(Hmm, hum, hum) Ah, she keeps me moanin', groanin' Hey, because I feel so good, feel real good Why can't nobody love me like my baby does? Young girl turned out to be two times Quite the woman that I thought she was Oh she keeps me moanin', groanin' Hey,

The way that I carry on. The way that I fuck her and I know that it turns her on So baby girl I'm gonna get you undressed I know you like it when I give you rough sex I bet you know what's gonna come next No fore play, no kiss, no caress Upon mi shoulder

I only want you, I only want you, yeah I don't want somebody like you I don't want somebody brand new Guess I had to leave, had to leave, had to leave ya Just to need, just to need ya I don't want another night of tryna find Another you, another rock

Hol' up (Hol' up) hol' up (Hol' up) Yeah, big shit poppin', everybody watchin' I wrote this record while thirty thousand feet in the air Stewardess complimentin' me on my nappy hair When you do it like this, nigga, losin' ain't an option If I can f-ck

Oh—I—oh—I—oh—I—oh—I I'm in love with your body 'Cause I love the shape of you, mama I wanna put my hands on ya She know I'm tryna open her Body like a bottle, Coca Cola You know mi love when you get nasty I wanna do you in the back seat Seven days sex,

Fifty five hundred for a new pair of titties I'll buy 'em like Jordans Give her a couple of thousands now she feelin' important Dick her down she'll be gone by the morning She got them ass shots that I like Pop a Addie we'll be fuckin' all night She say

Tenth Avenue freeze-out I'm talking 'bout a Tenth Tear drops on the city, Bad Scooter searching for his groove Seem like the whole world walking pretty and you can't find the room to move Well, everybody better move over, that's all 'Cause I'm running on

I won me a trophy I just wanna take you out and show you off You already know that you the perfect one Girl when I'm with you, feel like a champion Ever since I got with you I feel like I done won me a trophy I won me a trophy (I won, I won, I won) I

I like my beat down low and my top let back Can see me ridin' twenty-fours with a chopper in the back Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back If ya rims sit high and ya windows pitch black I like my top let back, let back, let back, let back, let

Oh, you don't form in the wet sand Elementary, son, but it's soul I'd like to say we did it for the better, oh I thought about it and I brought it out I'm motivated by the lack of doubt You don't form at all My shadow side, so amplified