To Much
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Um yeah I wanna give a shoutout to uh, Misha, um Michelle, uh Myesha
And uh, Shantell, and everybody up
There at the radio station Power 106
Don't blame me for your misfortune
It ain't my fault, hell I ain't know
When I drove up the door was open
I ain't know the nigga lived with shorty
I ain't do this shit to spite the homie
I'm only going on what shorty told me
Said she was alone and tired of being lonely
Needed a direct number to call me
So I hit her off and kept on rolling
Hit me later on, we'll work on something
If I knew then what I'm now knowing
I swear to God I would've left her alone
Don't love me (too much)
Don't love me (too much)
Don't love me (too much)
Don't love me (too much)
Yeah, check it out
Catch me in that six squatting low on 22's huh
And I don't want you following me peeping what it do ma
Don't need that harassing and asking why I come home late
When I just, walked out your house around a quarter to 8
So uh, miss me baby with all them bogus phone calls
Giving a nigga head just to smell a nigga balls
Look, beedy to freaky man she back on that bullshit
Claiming she hella freaky sucking on hella hood dicks
Stacy and Erica cool but they gotta roll cause
They done flipped all the homies on Death Row
Left coast to West coast yeah we the best coast
And if you love me too much baby you gotta get ghost
Don't love me (too much)
Don't love me (too much)
Don't love me (too much)
Don't love me (too much)
You know, and I know
That we know, and she know
That he know, D-E-A-T-H-R-O-W
Yeah bitch, what bitch
Kurupt bitch, shut the fuck up bitch
You know just the other day I was all on D's
And plucking hoes off like ticks and fleas
I'm hood, and you're not
Cause it's cracking once the door locks
I thought you knew about Gotti
I thought you knew about 'Pac
I rock and cock blocks
Don't love me (too much)
Don't love me (too much)
Don't love me (too much)
Don't love me (too much)
Beating a bitch out and giving a bitch a foot
Massage ain't even the same fucking thing
It's not, it's the same ballpark
Ain't no fucking ballpark neither. Now look, maybe your method
Of massage differs from mine. But you know touching his wife's
Feet, and sticking your tongue in the holiest of holies ain't
The same fucking ballpark. It ain't the same league. It ain't
Even the same fucking sport. Look, foot massages don't mean shit
Have you ever given a foot massage?
Don't be telling me about foot massages. I'm the foot fucking master
You given a lot of 'em?
Shit yeah. Got my technique down and
Everything. I don't be tickling or nothing