I just jumped out the whip with a bad little bitch Her hair down to her asshole, I love that shit Her ass all on her back, and I love that shit Her shoe game is fantastic, I love that shit She don't fuck with broke niggas, and I love that shit If Young

Put your hair in the air Come on baby Let's go crazy We ain't never gonna stop Put your hair in the air (hair up) We don't care (hair up) Hair in the air, hair in the air Put your hair

Someone still loves you At the overpass, at the overpass Sketchy girls and lipstick boys Troubled love and high speed noise Let me hear you say somethin' (That perfume lingers in your hair) (You need me don't you?) Meet me, meet me I know you wanna meet

The summer wind The summer wind came blowin' in from across the sea It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me All summer long we sang a song and then we strolled that golden sand Two sweethearts and the summer wind Like painted kites, those

Young money Mack I'm goin' in I'm a Millionaire I'm a Young Money Millionaire, tougher than Nigerian hair My criteria compared to your career just isn't fair I'm a venereal disease like a menstrual bleed Threw the pencil and leak on the sheet of the

I ride it like a wave I'm down for wherever it takes me I ride it, I ride it like a wave I'm waiting at the shore with my arms wide open Wind blowing in my hair, let the sea salt soak in Coming at me full force, do this with my eyes closed, yeah Just

You make loving you easy You make loving you all I wanna do Reminds me just how much it all makes Every little smile, every single touch Every morning when you come downstairs Hair's a mess but I don't care No makeup on and shining so bright My old

Weathered by the storms and well oiled hands I've read a lot of books, wrote a few songs Looked at my life, where it's goin', where it's gone I've seen the world through a bus windshield But nothing compares to the way that I see it To the way that I see

Lady writer on the TV Just the way that her hair fell down around her face Then I recall my fall from grace Another time, another place Talking about the Virgin Mary Yeah you know I'm talking about you and me And the lady writer on the TV Lady Writer on

Don't blame the girl She won't do you wrong The veil she wears on her long dark hair, Mary would have done Don't blame the boy He won't do you wrong The fist he shakes at the giant's face, David would have done If you turn to face your fears It will