[Hook]
I love you
Please bring my money on time
You don't want the grime
[Verse 1: Themba Ntaka]
Fifty cents for my cigarette, a cookie's no better
I'll evanesce like smoke before I fall like sh**
People judge me like I got smoker's breath at the addiction ceremony
As if I spread bologna to kids
Now you're on your own, boy
Homeboy topple tracks
But since I'm not home I don't dress up in the reference
I'm alone girl, pick up your phone
And tennis balls don't ever make a goal so he's bouncing off the walls
Refusal of flaccid handshakes from those who work like fake acid to rip n***as off
Mad nuts I gaze at who want the sky to fall and place blame on the wrong rival
[Hook]
I love you
Please bring my money on time
You don't want the grime
I know a prostitute who goes natural
She's down to earth about whatever she does, she gotta bring that money on time