On the cloud the cpu fan's not held on by gum
Look at what i'm up against, scrutiny, criticism
Guess im ahead of my time
White boy, six foot, packin a nine
I find dimes like nine - five
She's flawless like some uncut ice
I try and try and try but always fail to get away, from my storm cloud.
She leave before the sun up, leave you something to think about
Rob you on the street with the nine
Slow whine, my gyal, slow whine
It takes away my storm cloud.
Can't seem to find a solid ground
But instead i got a sister, just like me with her mister nada
When ever we talk, i feel like i am on cloud nine wit ya
I gots cravin for a number nine
I'm back chillin with a friend of mine
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