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Testo LA Lisa
Testo LA Lisa
No, it ain't a question, not even an issue
Nobody knows you like I know ya
You grew up on Queen Street
Your dad is a gangsta but he's gettin' older
You was in love with the street life
Used to seein' niggas, tuckin' the heat right
Loud parties and street fights
Hangin' with the players, got caught in the game Now you're in need of seating, but ain't we all the same
I thought if we make it out alive
You might kiss up on my side, yeah (My side, my side)
Guess we'll have to wait and see
If you'll find your way to me
La Lisa
La Lisa
La Lisa
I need ya
Right, I'ma stack these up right
That's my cuz, so he gangbang
But I don't claim shit, nah, no baggage, not even a briefcase
You more street than me, but (Nah) Don't leave me strung out this way
Get a little ratchet, stay over color, your box
Don't tell your daddy, he might go Crayola
(I heard the nigga just got out)
Hurry up and come outside
I got the whip parked, it's 'bout to get dark
I'm talkin' Wesley, and we out West, you know it be
Sit these niggas on your block
And I came through dolo this time, on a solo this time
Like CeCe Winans, not whinin', but
Not finna play with you, I'm tryna skate with you
Like T.I. in the Louis on the couch late at night like Fallon
I fall in, she got used to them scripts, yeah, all written
Darlin', Miss Lisa, she a moaner
So bad, put your ass in the moment
Yes, put that on my mama
Pour Moët, it's a moment
She finally sent to my house
Hit the weed and act like a geese, it made me speak Portuguese
Didn't even know I could
Been wantin' this for a while
We keep it between you and me, capisce, ah, Lisa
La Lisa
La Lisa
La Lisa
I need ya
I can't belive this nigga ain't call me back
Ol' Chief Keef head ass, Mekhi Phifer of "8 Mile" lookin' head ass
He ain't call me back? (I can't believe this)
I bet he don't even write his songs
Talkin' 'bout, talkin' 'bout he the king of R&B
That nigga can't even move like Usher
Ain't Chris workin' on something? (He trippin')
Mm-hmm, pssh I thought we had a good time
Well I had a good time, that weed was fire bro
Nobody knows you like I know ya
You grew up on Queen Street
Your dad is a gangsta but he's gettin' older
You was in love with the street life
Used to seein' niggas, tuckin' the heat right
Loud parties and street fights
Hangin' with the players, got caught in the game Now you're in need of seating, but ain't we all the same
I thought if we make it out alive
You might kiss up on my side, yeah (My side, my side)
Guess we'll have to wait and see
If you'll find your way to me
La Lisa
La Lisa
La Lisa
I need ya
Right, I'ma stack these up right
That's my cuz, so he gangbang
But I don't claim shit, nah, no baggage, not even a briefcase
You more street than me, but (Nah) Don't leave me strung out this way
Get a little ratchet, stay over color, your box
Don't tell your daddy, he might go Crayola
(I heard the nigga just got out)
Hurry up and come outside
I got the whip parked, it's 'bout to get dark
I'm talkin' Wesley, and we out West, you know it be
Sit these niggas on your block
And I came through dolo this time, on a solo this time
Like CeCe Winans, not whinin', but
Not finna play with you, I'm tryna skate with you
Like T.I. in the Louis on the couch late at night like Fallon
I fall in, she got used to them scripts, yeah, all written
Darlin', Miss Lisa, she a moaner
So bad, put your ass in the moment
Yes, put that on my mama
Pour Moët, it's a moment
She finally sent to my house
Hit the weed and act like a geese, it made me speak Portuguese
Didn't even know I could
Been wantin' this for a while
We keep it between you and me, capisce, ah, Lisa
La Lisa
La Lisa
La Lisa
I need ya
I can't belive this nigga ain't call me back
Ol' Chief Keef head ass, Mekhi Phifer of "8 Mile" lookin' head ass
He ain't call me back? (I can't believe this)
I bet he don't even write his songs
Talkin' 'bout, talkin' 'bout he the king of R&B
That nigga can't even move like Usher
Ain't Chris workin' on something? (He trippin')
Mm-hmm, pssh I thought we had a good time
Well I had a good time, that weed was fire bro
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