POS:
Smoothed out without the R and B
(Mercy) Come on!
(Mercy) Come on y'all!
(Mercy) Come on!
There's no R and B in this song
So come along fly children come along
Come along fly children come along
Come along fly children come along
There's no R and B in this song!
Pushed up a dame by the name of Crystal
Who flaunts to the point just like a missile
A habit wit ear kiddin' wit gold mags
And since she fancies facial hair she asks my name
(Hey baby what's your name?)
Now ever so fab I said I'm wala
Miss Wild who used to run tough wit Koala
She was a winner of my metaphor and she knew that
I said I'm gonna feed your mouth she said you do that
Now Crystal stops the jeep I think I'm mad fly
She used to have a man wit lots of mad signs
Her strut was guaranteed to make a gay smile
And in bed she had proved to be real agile
I show her to the lounge and I dined her
Then she gave me some digits where I could find her
I licked her like a stamp
Laid and sticked her like a champ
But the... um she gave me burn
I had to go see the doctor
Writer(s): Paul E. Huston, Vincent L. Mason, Kelvin Mercer, Lou Donaldson, David Jolicoeur, T. George, Arthur Snyder
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