Here's my story, it's sad but true.
Yeah right.
Yeah! You see I love women.
But I can't pick just one,
And like
I'm sure I'll settle down one day.
But I'm young, right?
I'm just trying to have a good time.
Living in the moment and what not.
You could call me a dog,
But everybody else calls me Chris Webby.
Haha, naw mean?
Yeah, yeah.
It's seems like every week
I get some girlie's number
In my phone
Bring her home
Make her scream
Make her yell
Make her moan.
I'm a dog
Always looking for somewhere to put a bone.
On my Entourage shit
Bitches looking like Sloane.
I'm an animal,
Off the chain,
I had to cut loose.
And judging on how you're dressed,
You're tryin to fuck boo.
You'll never hear me uttering about I love you,
I just really want to see them panties
Dropping to your Ugg boots.
It ain't my fault,
Your girlfriend sweats me.
She'll be getting back to you,
Right after she's left me.
And I ain't putting rose petals on your beadsheats.
Romance ain't my thing,
You should've known that when you met me.
Am what I am,
And I'll be it to my death.
Got a thing for brunettes,
With tats,
And big breasts.
So if you at the play
Don't worry,
You'z on deck.
Hate the game,
Not the player, Ma.
And then she make me say...
Whoa oh [repeated]
You see my life's good,
Where it ought to be.
All I gotta do is spit game
And slaughter beats.
And I know you'll probably tell your whole sorority,
Just don't expect my phone to answer
When you're calling me.
I'm a son of a gun,
Check my paternity test.
Always chugging on a 40,
And burning the best.
Unzippering your jeans
While you kiss on my neck.