Now if you walk up in the club with a bad chick, and she’s looking at me then I’m going to hit it. Man, jacking for chicks, I tried to quit, but I’m a player homie, so I had to hit it.
While you were buying her drinks in the club, acting like your in love, stunting like you’re all thug, we was switching numbers. She looking at you when I walked by, but you turned your head, she winked her eye. I can’t help if she’s checking for a platinum type of guy.
She’s calling me daddy, and I’m calling her mommy. She’s calling you Kelly, when you’re name is Tommy.
I don’t know what ya’ll be thinking when you bring them around me. Let me remind you that I am the king of R&B. Do you know what that means? That means if you love your chick, don’t bring her to the VIP, because I might leave with your chick.
Just keeping it real. It’s a player’s feel. Don’t take your bitch to the club when you just met her. Because I’m a flirt.
Written By: R. Kelly
Which one’s the birthday boy?” she said. “I ain’t got all night.”
“What your momma name you? You can call me what you like.” Every skinny’s a mystery, gotta make it hard some how. “Sit your narrow ass down hot shot, I’ll solve yours right now.”
“Got a girlfriend don’t you boy?” Nervous hands can’t lie. Married men don’t ask how much, single one’s ain’t buying. One day you’ve got everything. Next day it’s all broke. “Let Miss Trixie sit up front. Let her wipe your nose.”
Working for the money like you got eight hands, flat on your back under a mean old man, just thinking happy thoughts and breathing in. Between your momma’s drive and daddy’s belt it don’t take smarts to learn how to tune out what hurts more than helps.
Pretty girls from the smallest towns get remembered like storms and droughts that old men talk about for years to come. I guess that’s why they give us names. So a few old me can say they saw us rain when we were young.
“Which one’s the birthday boy?” she said. “I ain’t got all night. What your momma name you? You can call me what you like.”
Author: Mike Cooley, DBT
“All these things I do, They’re waiting for you.” -Bradley Nowell, Sublime, Garden Grove
Sublime reformed in 2009.
I learned this news recently. It disturbs me.
I’ve been studying the two videos for Kid Cudi’s “Pursuit of Happiness” (accompanied by MGMT & Ratatat) like the Zapruder film. The song itself is haunting, but the videos are a master class in the weight imagery and music work together. One song can be a party-down number one moment, and a confrontation with a personal demons the next.
The Muses of Greek mythology had to be women. I understand that now, after seeing rock goddess Grace Potter weave gold spindles of inspiration from her stage perch on an unseasonably warm November evening.
Because of her, I’m ready to write a sonnet, or at least a few paragraphs. Calliope, Clio, Erato, Euterpe, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia, Urania. And Grace.