Why do women have to be so damn fine? Fine to the point of releasing butterflies, fine to the point of rendering you mush, fine to the point of lookin eyes down and hands in pockets? That stuff bullshit.

What it be man?
Them titties?
Just wait till the bra drop and them double D’s drop down to lower case b’s

That face?
Wait till that makeup run, you just might hestitate

That connection be spiritual?
Nah ol boy that that line be too lyrical, tryin to wax poetic all over that chick you soundin hysterical

Cute feet?
Hold up now

I kid, but shit.
I fiend too much over these mamas, the types you really wouldnt wanna take home to momma

The types you warned about by momma
She even said they might harm ya

But you think these girls cant fool ya
till you get told she yells ‘big poppa’ but in the plural

Yet all this and we still the susceptible gender
Them FEET though, they just render you-

I KID, but shit
I guess its that rush, makin you feel like a little kid again
Makin you feel like Taylor Swift singin “love song” ‘ s
Cept without Kanye actin a fool again.

These pretty girls, big girls, tall, black, skinny girls,
I chase so much pussy give me a collar and scratch me back behind my ears
While I chase that tail I’m thinkin I’m bout to catch that shone
but, Im runnin in circles just lookin for my own-…

TEEEEEELLLL ME what else to think, how else to feel, or what to do
Girls be doo doo man, aint nothin to it
Just don’t forget lest you end up-


Floatin, mushy, eyes down with hands in pocket