Everyday calling my mom on her cellular phone.
Whining and complaining about when you coming home
Calling bitches up on my cellular phone,
Better than college, after that, students home
Stop blowin up my phone
So beat me to the bone
On my phone miss havin you around
Out of this 3rd rock, nigga air it out
I remember the phone call to my house my mom kicking me out,
But it don't feel half as good as grandma saying she's proud
And ignores all my phone calls just to disturb me
Surrounded by the irony of living in the city
If that's case, then my phone gone drop me
Could i make you my baby
I'm definitely in a class of my own
You didn't even talk to me on the phone
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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