[Verse One: Queen Heroine]
I'm bad broad, still mad gods be actin' like the word one backwards
They actors
Marlon Brandos, so if you mad coals, then brand yours, big baller
Ice-T status, not discrete
Instead of that sneak mode madness
Accessible strictly through cell phones, chattin'
Make it known, you wanna bone? You're not alone
We grown folk, like Tone Loc
Your tone low
When askin' what's happenin'
While babymama's goin' spastic
You're full of havoc
Drama, but no pull like elastic in old pajamas
I'm a goner
Tried to stay, but you hit and run like Tonka games
What a shame, so lame
Full of excuses, just put it plain, the truth is ...
[Hook, sung]
"Somebody release me!"
[COME ON, OF COURSE NOT]
"Somebody release me!"
[WITH ALL OF YOUR FORCED PLOTS]
"Somebody release me!"
[COME ON, OF COURSE NOT]
"Anyway. Anyway."
[Spoken simultaneously]
"Every time I talk to this dude he think I don't know what's goin' on with baby mama drama. Shit I'm a mama too, I know what's the word, kid, if it's just about sex, then you know, we could do that. Playing games and whatnot, I don't even got the time for this shit anymore, man. Done. Your homeboy or something must be grimy as fuck, anyway son"
[Verse Two: Breeze]
Anyway you tell it, hey forget it, come on son
You straight pathetic, save a debt and get Jon Lovitz
Yeah, yeah ... that's the ticket to catch a trick
It's like, yeah yeah, catch a kick in your derriere
Then it's still there, maybe you're pathological
Crazy, the bastard hardly knows, hey, see that be horrible
With everything that you say, you're a deceiver who
When at the end of the day, you believe in you
Complete madness, modern day Pinocchio
Probably great for pokin' low on some Humpty Dance
With the 69 ticklin', shit, be like dickin' it
Other than your slut it's damaged and wild sick of it
So leave the art of storytelling for Slick Rick
I see you on the floor be yellin' the blip-blip
Please stop still frontin', why'd you hit me?
He popped steel cause your style was shifty
So yeah, I told you buddy, and you can doubt, yeah
But the truth is out there, don't let it mold your scully
On some X-Files reruns, ex-style, he's done
Should have took a next route, see son?
[Hook, sung]
"Somebody release me!"
[COME ON, OF COURSE NOT]
"Somebody release me!"
[WITH ALL OF YOUR FORCED PLOTS]
"Somebody release me!"
[COME ON, OF COURSE NOT]
"Anyway. Anyway."
[Spoken simultaneously]
"Hey yo, you know homeboy? Word he was tellin' me he got this and that. With labels. Like yo, where you work? He's like, yo I work at Def Jam. Word? That's what's up. Like boom, boom. Yo let me lay you with some stuff. Then my man come to tell me, like yo, homeboy work in the cafeteria. Like what you gon' do? You gonna hit Jay-Z with a joint, while, you know, givin' him salad?"
[Verse Three: Wordsworth]
Being caught so many times in a lie
Plenty tries to deny
Each story two size to provide
Cross fingers, cross my heart and hope to die
Hit by lightning from the sky may strike any time I reply
Can't say nothin' nice for the life of you
Lyin' isn't right but in the right situations, it's polite to do
Like when it's your wife and you, it's slightly true
When you say, "you lost weight, you look good
And that dress lookin' nice on you"
But let me spin it after you been in it and split it
The wife fibbin' that you handlin' your business but didn't
Won't admit it: two minutes and you finished
She biggin' you up to the man
But her hands make her climb to the limit
Now dig it
The truth: easier leaving it out
Like when you're five minutes away but you're just leaving your house
And the basis is need-to-know
Just wrote this
I lied to Breeze and told him that I had this verse ready a week ago
Let's keep it low
[Hook, sung]
"Somebody release me!"
[COME ON, OF COURSE NOT]
"Somebody release me!"
[WITH ALL OF YOUR FORCED PLOTS]
"Somebody release me!"
[COME ON, OF COURSE NOT]
"Anyway. Anyway."
[Spoken simultaneously]
Nah I'm saying, you look good in that dress right there. It's tight! No I don't mean tight like small on you, I mean like tight "look good" you know what I'm sayin'? Why don't you wear something like flats or something, make you look, you know, more smaller. I mean TALLER. Know what I'm saying? I mean, what does it matter what I think anyway, it's about what you think. Know what I mean?
[Stop lyin'!] (scratched)
[That's a lie!] (scratched)
