Every second, every minuteMan, I swear that she can get itSay if you a bad bitch, put your hands up highHands up high, hands up highTell 'em dim the lights down right nowPut me in the moodI'm talkin' about dark room, perfume, go, go
I recognize your fragranceHold up, you ain't never gotta say shitUh, and I know your taste isA little bit, hmm, high maintenanceUh, everybody else basicYou live life on an everyday basisWith poetic justice, poetic justiceIf I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark roomWould you trust it?I mean, I write poems in these songs dedicated to you whenYou're in the mood for empathy, there's blood in my penBetter yet, where your friends and 'em?I really wanna know you allI really wanna show you offFuck that, pour up plenty of champagneCold nights when you curse this nameYou called up your girlfriendsAnd y'all curled in that little bitty RangeI heard that she wanna go and party, she wanna go and partyNigga, don't approach her with that AtariNigga, that ain't good game, homie, sorryThey say conversation rule a nation, I can tellBut I could never right my wrongs'Less I write it down for real, P.S.
You can get it, you can get itYou can get it, you can get itAnd I know just, know just, know justKnow just, know just what you wantPoetic justice, put it in a song, alright(A-a-anytime) You can get it, you can get itYou can get it, you can get it (At any place)And I know just, know just, know justKnow just, know just what you wantPoetic justice, put it in a song, alright
I really hope you play this, 'cause ol' girl you test my patienceWith all these seductive photographsAnd all these one-off vacations you've been takin'Clearly a lot for me to take in, it don't make senseYoung East African girl, you too busy fuckin' with your other manI was tryna put you on game, put you on a planeTake you and your momma to the motherlandI could do it, maybe one dayWhen you figure out you're gonna need someoneWhen you figure out it's alright here in the cityAnd you don't run from where we come fromThat sound like poetic justice, poetic justiceYou were so new to this life, but goddamn, you got adjustedI mean, I write poems in these songs, dedicated to the fun sexYour natural hair and your soft skinAnd your big ass in that sundress, oohGood God, what you doin' that walk for?When I see that thing moveI just wish we would fight less and we would talk moreThey say communication save relations, I can tellBut I can never right my wrongsUnless I write 'em down for real, P.S.
You can get it, you can get itYou can get it, you can get itAnd I know just, know just, know justKnow just, know just what you wantPoetic justice, put it in a song, alrightYou can get it, you can get itYou can get it, you can get itAnd I know just, know just, know justKnow just, know just what you wantPoetic justice, put it in a song, alright
Every time I write these words they become a tabooMakin' sure my punctuation curve, every letter here's trueLivin' my life in the margin and that metaphor was proofI'm talkin' poetic justice, poetic justiceIf I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark roomWould you trust it? I mean, you need to hear thisLove is not just a verb, it's you lookin' in the mirrorLove is not just a verb, it's you lookin' for it, maybeCall me crazy, we can both be insaneA fatal attraction is common, and what we have common is painI mean, you need to hear this, love is not just a verbAnd I can see power steerin', sex drive when you swerveI want that interference, it's coherent, I can hear itMhmm, that's your heartbeatIt either caught me or it called me, mhmmRead slow and you'll find gold mines in these linesSincerely, yours truly, and right before you go blind, P.S.
You can get it, you can get itYou can get it, you can get itAnd I know just, know just, know justKnow just, know just what you wantPoetic justice, put it in a song, alright
"I'm gon' ask you one more time, homieWhere is you from? Or it is a problem.""Ayy, you over here for Sherane, homie?""Yo, I don't care who this nigga over here forIf he don't tell me where he from, it's a wrap! I'm sorry.""Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, we gon' do it like this, okay?I'ma tell you where I'm from, okay?You gon' tell me where you from, okay?Or where your grandma stayWhere your mama stay, or where your daddy stay, okay?""Enough with all this talkin'.""Matter of fact, get out the van, homie!Get out the car before I snatch you out that motherfucker, homie!"