| I got this chick named Ari, all she do is want to party
|
| Always want to meet up in public with a Barbie
|
| Swear she’s a Barbie, Nicki, she got it going
|
| Ass fat, keep a straight wig on her dome
|
| Never at home, hot ass, she hit the street nights
|
| Paparazzi, earrings reflecting off the street lights
|
| Never want to sit tight, she call a nigga midnight
|
| To tell me after two, she’s coming to get my dick right
|
| Well baby, that’s cool, but listen, I’m getting older
|
| Nowadays, after 2, I’m sleeping, I’m rolling over
|
| I call you about noon, you was tweaking, you wasn’t sober
|
| I can see you in your room hungover all on the sofa
|
| Them days over for Obie, I’m on some next shit
|
| Way it’s looking like, I’m going so domestic
|
| You ain’t cooking nice or hooking up that breakfast
|
| I’ma direct you to the exit, biatch
|
| (So long, so long)
|
| I’ve been fucking y’all for years, time for Obie to duck up out of here
|
| (So long, so long)
|
| You enjoyed Obie’s pleasing, but pardon me, good evening
|
| (So long, so long)
|
| Been a player like forever, I’m gone, it’s time for O to move on
|
| (So long, so long)
|
| You done had a lot of fun, right? |
| But pardon me, good night
|
| Time for me to move on
|
| I’m telling the girls so long
|
| (I'ma direct you to the exit, biatch)
|
| I got this chick named Mona, always want me on the phone with her
|
| When I’m on the road, she blowing up my horn at her
|
| She don’t like the homies, she always want me alone with her
|
| Social skills ill, something had to be wrong with her
|
| Lock me in the crib since she ain’t fucking with wanderers
|
| Niggas got to live, see that will never become of us
|
| Want to be my rib, literally fuck my kids
|
| Fuck a sister, speak up, yo disappear
|
| Baby listen here, your tack glisten full of wackness
|
| You don’t like kids, you need a psychiatric pamphlet
|
| I don’t give a shit how damp your snatch get
|
| How loud your ass clap, you’s a crazy ass bitch
|
| Going through life ass backwards, your motto
|
| Carrying all that baggage, bottle
|
| Marrying me’s not happening, bye dude
|
| There’s the door, yep, I mean to be rude
|
| I got this chick named Keisha, all she do is smoke reefer
|
| When she say she love me, it’s hard for me to believe her
|
| Cause when she say she love me, she’s rolling up sativas
|
| Smoker’s choiced lips, bitch swears she’s a diva
|
| Yeah I grew up off the chronic, but she’s so Wiz Khalifa
|
| Keep a couple grams of OG in her sneaker
|
| Dressed like the 90s, Dooney & Bourke purse
|
| I try to coerce her to Louie, it never worked
|
| So pitiful, forgetful
|
| You on some hoopy shit when Obie is so in it, boo
|
| I like to hit and quit, you claim that it’s medicinal
|
| I swear you be getting more licks than my dick do
|
| I know you on the, ganja
|
| Sometimes I’m wishing, bitch, that I was marijuana
|
| You thinking relationship, I’m thinking more like nada
|
| I won’t be seeing you tomorrow, bitch
|
| (So long, so long)
|
| I’ve been fucking y’all for years, time for Obie to duck up out of here
|
| (So long, so long)
|
| You enjoyed Obie’s pleasing, but pardon me, good evening
|
| (So long, so long)
|
| Been a player like forever, I’m gone, it’s time for O to move on
|
| (So long, so long)
|
| We’re supposed to be peers, but you never caught up, fuck out of here |