TSA, stay fucking with my bag. But either way, S-E-G-A. In love with the cash, and I need. break. My memory keeps slipping. MJ, but Pippen. Microphone Jones-ing, Jordan with conversation, so listen. Of course you’re making it different when you’re walking my way, walking off like the highway. Thoughts going out of my brain, inside of thy frame. Digesting it. My questions is your “it.” Bottom line, I’m the shit. Say my name. If you got a guy, quit it

Girl, I feel you working it out
I hope you know what you’re doing
Girl, I feel you working your mouth
I hope you know I’m about to lose it

You got my dick on some other shit. Gump, on some Bubba shit. Gums like Bubba, bumping your fucking ass just so I can get my shit back. That’s how it go. I already got the sour rolled. You’re powerful and you’re loud, I know. So the most people with the most powerful system of computers go to hell for Dell. My dick get low for Micro. But I’m trying to hit thighs. so Apple, indeed, in the core. You and I doing things we need to go to church for. Fuck I have to record this verse for? Wait until verse no more

Girl I see you working it out
I hope you know what you’re doing
Girl I feel you working your mouth
I hope you know I’m about to lose it

Couple of baddies, they be sucking it for Daddy, like Robin Thicke. I am who made Robin Thicke watch the flick. I made her Papa thick. Her Papa’s her Mama, she’s got my dick. I’m what the bottom is, what’s the problem with all y’all kids? I’m also what the top is, like what Minaj is. Bouncing like I misspelled her name. Can’t help me today, dame, this is an away game. Still dribbling and listening. Coach Pat Reilly of rhyming Exactly what I mean and need

Girl, I see you working it out
I hope you know what you’re doing
Girl, I feel you working your mouth
I hope you know I’m about to lose it