Long nights of hearing about old boyfriends in her home
But i be like for real, just pick up that phone
Home of the free and land of the wicked
Never give my heart to hoes that want my play shit
At the end of the day he just wants to go home
Long before i knew the significance of a comb
They try to bag the essence of youth, and then will drag it home,
Once considered a rogue, i was chilling alone
Whenever i'm through, you already on the phone
Still on my grind, got a lot of kids at home
Home of the rappin disease
Way too big for my my fucking jeans
I got a love jones for your body and skin tone
Cuz the bitches like us, but they love our home.
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