Grooveline Pt. 1

(Strolling in the park)

Cause you never met or seen a nigga quite like me

You need a gangsta baby, just tryna give it to ya

(Walking in the dark)

A groovy nigga that's way too g

(Tryna tell you baby!)

He might say cuz but he ain't fucking with cuz

Yea I'm q, but you can call me quincy

If you want or whatever baby, it's all love

Fuck all that rapping, let me talk to you

Book you a ticket, so we can kick it

Make an escape somewhere we'll be safe

Close your purse, I got my visa on me

Pick out whatever, it ain't shit but money, turn you to my honey

Take off my salvatore, wipe your nose for ya

Climb a mountain in the snow for ya

You see these dummies always cut you lose

But so much that a g can do, hit the weed, have a drink or two

I pay attention, I can listen too, you say he fucking who?

Fresh out the shower, let me smell your hair

Garnier fructis got my knees weak, let's cuddle in these sheets

Let me hold you for a moment, it feels right, don't it?

From a lost child to a woman

Eye contact and soft kisses, strong grip, she want a gangsta, on crip

(Strolling in the party)

Cause you never met or seen a nigga quite like me

Just tryna give it to ya

(Walking in the dark)

A groovy nigga that's way too g

(Tryna tell you baby!)

A 5'3" stallion

Daddy was from harlem, her momma was italian

I don't see the challenge

Of having two girls, you just gotta keep the balance

I told her light that candle

I heard you do yoga, I'm tryna see examples

Your ass is like a handle

See us on the front page, that'll be a scandal

Take off this red shirt, then my flannel

I need some head first, then I'mma fuck you in them sandals

Hit the coochie like a dime sack

Ain't those gucci, didn't I buy that?

Close your eyes, go and try that

You only live once and I know I got you soaking wet

Thirsty, is the liquor store open yet

I need some moet to pour it on yo ass like a paint

Back shots leave the pussy shaking, this my open invitation

In the morning, make my toast with fresh orange juice

And turkey bacon, bitch

Dom kennedy

Underground royal

Flow over they heads, air duct

Upper crust, toast bread

Talk of the town, thinking you know everything 'bout

A nigga cause them bitches talk loud in them beauty shop

Gossip before your man came get ya

Youtube clips can't show it all

Come and get down if you really wan' get up, baby doll

Ain't nobody 'round to judge, go on

Get if off your chest, vent, come up out that dress, bitch

She ain't take offense

Proceeded to take hits of the pregame twist, smoke out, smash

Grub a little bit, pass out, post-game events

Too high to find the remote, fell asleep to a infomercial

Woke up in her mouth, reruns of full house, followed by some urkel

Og my strain, rarely do I blaze purple

Some of them growers be in a rush fucking the game up

You gon' learn about all that stuff long as you hang around us

Go on roll up