Winnie Churchill - Talk It

So Pimpin
The phone ringing, she dove in it
But I can't move, she got her whole soul in it
To think a photo can control all niggas
But I don't even know the hoe, stop trippin
She sent a photo of her clothes all fitted
I sent a photo of my hotel digits
The same out fit on the floor next to me
Cause I ain't type to do this solo
Look, but think the unit, was the only go-rillas?
But fuck performing at these shows, I done did it
To make a dollar and for what? Nicole? Hit it
Were thinking up, more coast to coast, the more digits
Fuck I look like?
You think Im worried bout friends?
I need to cook right
You think they mad at this tan?
Im looking good right
But fuck them niggas, go fake it until you make it
Only you taking blueprints yes
But then there's Keisha, God Damn
I can't figure out the waist to heels ratio
The waist looking like that Janet J thing
And then the booty, go on, take the whole stadium
But fuck it, only me will fit that hunny, that's my d*** talking
I grab it just to shut up, she calling
Looking at my phone like what? huh?
I'm thinking face down and ass up

Oh Winnie, you wanna work that hard?
Of Course I wanna work that hard
Matterfact
If no nigga's wanna work that broad
Then of course I wanna work that broad
On Saturdays
My god when the lights flick off
Well shit, then the lights flick off
Well look at that
Cause if I dance, well, play the right song
Just incase they go and cut the lights on
(Talk to'em Nigga)

Don't
Play with your boy, your shooting shots in a dark room
I set the mood, but these nike's are in a dance mood
I set the bar, so your drink, go on go gas up
Just like the homie "go ring, click, and get back to em"
She was texting me like, "Oh, God"
And now I think the booty texting for her
Cause she was snapping me the tank with no bra
Cause she ain't type to do that solo
So uhm I, inviter to the, crib
Im sitting on the, bed
She sucking on this ****
I wonder how the phone calls will go
I need another "Oh' lord can someone come and hold my neck"
Meanwhile, my phone ringing let me catch that hunny
My bitch calling, I finish so she shut up
She kinda, looking at my phone like what? huh?
I'm thinking face down and ass up (keep going)

Oh Winnie, you wanna work that hard?
Of course I wanna work that hard
Matterfact
If no nigga's wanna work that broad
Then of course I wanna work that broad
On Saturdays
My god when the lights flick off
Well shit! Then the lights flick off
Well look at that
Cause if I dance, well, play the right song
Just incase they go and cut the lights on
(Talk to'em Nigga)

Pimpin is Pimin, let me act up
If this ain't fitting in your driveway, let me back up
I got this attitude, cause shit we talking practice
She got that attitude, that shit is on her mattress
Face down, I'm thinking lord that ass up
Not now, we in the cut, let me fasten up
And when I'm done, she mad, let me pack up
Because its on, next chapter

Written by:
Irwin Davidson

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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