Funktified

Baby, with all that jive how do you stay alive?
with every pace of your fast talking sidewalk hop
chancing the rhythm just to teach what you been taught
and how is it so simple for you to buy me those pops
or take me on those sweet little light-rail walks
share with me some more of your smooth-talkin’ talk

lord knows she’s not a cop but the home girl has sirens
maybe she’ll blow your mind– or every one
of your guy friends, honey, don’t pretend
it’s unbecoming, you’re a slave to the
D, and sweetheart, he’s cumming

open up and let him in, oh sure
you say, “we’re all just friends”
but Baby, it’s the weekend
and she has plans to go Deep-in
no-novice lover don’t you pretend

failed message back, Baby resend
who you fooling now that he’s all spent– better Repent
so fair warning, it’s over; the end, don’t depend
or you’ll have her double trouble over-timing
two hours down and it’s all black-lighting
no better sex than when we’re fucking fighting

bedroom walls and skin so hot,
you would have thought it was a Sin
no forgiveness here the Whorehouse caught a sting
so better yet, just pretend, we’re all friends
but tell me girl, how did you fit all that ass in?
if love was a sexy game for three,
you bet your ass you’d win

better start unfastening
now she’s fast asleep, again.           been funktified all weekend.          sex so fat and deep–           goddamn, this bitch is cheap.   “word from the streets”              with all that jive, how’d                  you stay so sweet?

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