Woman,
there is good music but there is no goodbye...
so i'm finnin' to kiss that ass hello then praise high heaven,
a scale of one to ten cannot appraise a fly eleven...
you're my ghetto queen like Thelma Evans,
if you looking for a dude then i am Devin...
woman, you are ice cold holy water when i'm going through hell,
and we are a provocative love story that i'm going to tell...
let me be so many cool breezes on the hottest day of the year,
and you are holistically the topic of my discussion,
not just your rear...
so please baby let me make love to you, my career,
and then flip me into a hypocrite cause i beg for your moisture as i dry each tear...
damn woman, you sweet sticky thing...
i am drenched in your wetness so this kool-aid smile
can change the attitude of gratitude that you would even let this happen,
and thanks for not snapping when our rapping didn't reflect your worth...
so this is me tapping into your maple syrup and letting each drip,
drop into my mouth so i skip downtown and slip down south,
this way i can sip me some flow
from the mouth of your mighty Mississippi until I am tipsy...
or till there's none left and if done right,
you'll mention Malik and God in one breath...
i love you to death, nah i love you to life,
love of my life, love you as my wife...
i don't even need a number to call you,
sister, goddess, baby, momma, so blessed that you are my baby momma...
super thorough although they seem to trip when you young...
but woman you defy physics you crib out west but stay on the tip of my tongue...
so technically you occupy two spaces simultaneously...
you are God and body same as me...
so i worship your dichotomy...
shamelessly...
cause you drown me...
and set me on fire too...
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Copy to Clipboard: Woman,
there is good music but there is no goodbye...
so i'm finnin' to kiss that ass hello then praise high heaven,
a scale of one to ten cannot appraise a fly eleven...
you're my ghetto queen like Thelma Evans,
if you looking for a dude then i am Devin...
woman, you are ice cold holy water when i'm going through hell,
and we are a provocative love story that i'm going to tell...
let me be so many cool breezes on the hottest day of the year,
and you are holistically the topic of my discussion,
not just your rear...
so please baby let me make love to you, my career,
and then flip me into a hypocrite cause i beg for your moisture as i dry each tear...
damn woman, you sweet sticky thing...
i am drenched in your wetness so this kool-aid smile
can change the attitude of gratitude that you would even let this happen,
and thanks for not snapping when our rapping didn't reflect your worth...
so this is me tapping into your maple syrup and letting each drip,
drop into my mouth so i skip downtown and slip down south,
this way i can sip me some flow
from the mouth of your mighty Mississippi until I am tipsy...
or till there's none left and if done right,
you'll mention Malik and God in one breath...
i love you to death, nah i love you to life,
love of my life, love you as my wife...
i don't even need a number to call you,
sister, goddess, baby, momma, so blessed that you are my baby momma...
super thorough although they seem to trip when you young...
but woman you defy physics you crib out west but stay on the tip of my tongue...
so technically you occupy two spaces simultaneously...
you are God and body same as me...
so i worship your dichotomy...
shamelessly...
cause you drown me...
and set me on fire too...
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