| She lives next door
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| To the store that I loiter at
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| We talk every night, she cry to me about her guy
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| And if we text, I get pissed when I get no reply
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| (It's this girl)
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| I know that she’s the key to love
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| She is who I’m thinking of when I am beating richard up
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| The mental images her face looked
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| The closest that I got was when I’m poking her on facebook
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| (This girl)
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| Video chats are so exciting,
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| Cause it’s like she is inviting me to her world full of privacy
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| I’m getting gassed up, I think she’s liking me
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| She’s gullible, and I just wanna take it like a pirate (aargh)
|
| (This girl)
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| I see her in class
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| Not really two doors down, but any time that I pass
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| To take a piss in a stall, I picture us in the hall
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| Locking lips on the wall, her hand grabbing my dick
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| My left hand on her tits, aw my shit’s getting hard
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| Some thoughts of dating this bitch
|
| (It's this girl)
|
| Her name is my password (…fuck)
|
| (This girl)
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| All my niggas got they bitches and stuff
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| But all the bitches, they fuck
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| Are known as bitches and sluts
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| But she’s special, I know to ya’ll I come off as rough
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| But I’m the nicest to her, and I just want to concur
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| A relation, I want the cheesy dates at the movies
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| And stupid walks at the beach, and sharin' straws in a cup
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| I never had that, so when we holdin' hands walkin' home
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| I look past that, the fact she’s fucking guys that I hate
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| But…
|
| (This girl)
|
| Things are looking great, cut copy
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| Last time that we talked, she said her relationship was rocky
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| Now that Mr. Fag is gone, there’s no one that can stop me
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| From bagging her, I got these tickets to the Roxy
|
| (This girl)
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| Next day, metro’s taking me home
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| I see her in a cut at wendy’s, but she’s not alone
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| Who’s that guy, wait, why the fuck he 'bout to kiss her?
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| Come to find out she got back with her… nigga…
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| (Damn)
|
| Damn…
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| Fuck…
|
| (It's this girl)
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| She’s so pretty, fuck self pity, I feel so shitty
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| I wanna text her in a jealous rage, but if she replied
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| Or say anything, I’mma smile, I know
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| What do I do with myself? |
| sit in my room for some days
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| Play xbox with piles full of wet socks, fuck that
|
| (This girl)
|
| My nigga asked «ace, what happened to such and such?»
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| I could slander her name, and then, tell em' I probably fucked
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| Or I could tell em the truth and say she didn’t like me much
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| But instead I lie and say she moved to nebraska…
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| (It's this girl…) |