QueTee - I Remember (Watermelon)

I remember back when I was blue, I'm getting green now
She eat my dick like watermelon, she don't spit the seed out
She just broke up with her ex, I guess I'm a rebound
Shawty gave me so much brain, I don't think she can read now
I remember I was hungry, but I'm on your feed now
I was making money while in class, learning pre-calc
She turn to a slut when she see cash
She gon' freak out
Niggas broke and still ain't on they grind
I don't get y'all
Bitch, I feel like Drake
You gon' have to take a shot for me
Shawty call me daddy, what you getting me for Father's Day
Know she want my wood, I'm not a tree, but make a lot of pape
Thought it was my birthday, shawty walk around with all that cake
Lying to me with your titties out, that's a booby trap
Shawty got big titties and a fatty, don't know what to grab
This bitch looking like a whole fraction, I'm in love with math
She want me to fuck her to R. Kelly
We ain't doing that
Ain't nobody tried me yet, I'm starting to think y'all scared of me
Niggas bums, y'all don't deserve to breathe the same air as me
Acting like they real, but they jokes, that's a parody
Give her a good dick, now she like, "why you being weird to me"
I promise me and you is not the same, it's no comparison
You ain't got 10,000 to your name, that's embarrassing
If you niggas ain't talking about no money, I ain't interested
Hit a crazy bitch without a rubber, I'm an idiot
I been out here carrying my city, got my back hurting
Brody said he smoking on that loud like a black person
Y'all be out here fiending for the cat, I don't act thirsty
He gon' do whatever for the pussy, he a cat person
These hoes really think they all that, I don't want y'all
I can really get your nigga flipped with a phone call
You don't know how to act around the hoes, you a horn dog
Told y'all niggas I was finna blow, shit, I warned y'all
You broke my money way taller, it's a height difference
I don't care if niggas think I'm gay, I don't like bitches
Baby, I'll still get your nails done, if they French tips
You the type to fuck your homie hoe, that ain't friendship
Had to show that bitch that I'm a boss, now she acting better
Bro been sipping too much lean, he need to get his act together
I was making money at 16, but now it's stacking better
They like the way I dress, don't need no stylist, bitch, it's patent leather
Floating like a butterfly, stinging like a bee
I know her nigga envious, I'm who he wanna be
That nigga in the nosebleeds, it's hard for him to see
I don't do relationships, I know that I'm a-
okay

Written by:
Quantrell Mitchell

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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