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Jermaine Dupri - Going Home With Me lyrics
(feat. Keith Sweat, R.O.C.) [JD talking to R.O.C.] [JD] I'm feelin' that 2x, is you wit' me? I'm the type you see at the bar, fresh, buyin' it up And every girl I talk to, yeah I'm tryin' to cut I tell'em all I'm Chi Chi and it's nice to meet ya Real quick, I tell how she got all the right features The jams come on and the glasses get refilled We dance and watch the relations build Now I'm all up in her ear and she listenin' At the same time, watchin' how a nigga glistenin' BLING! BLING! I'm thinkin' it's bout time to go Get the B out of valet and start the late night show Niggas hate, I know but I don't stop I shine I'm in the club every week, same place, same time Same thing on the mind, PARTY! PARTY! So the hell with all that, we tryin' to find somebody The right kind 'fore the lights come off Shit, I'm tryin' to take sumpin' home [Chorus] Now if I buy you a drink and you drink it up Then, uh, you goin' home with me (and all my niggas say) And if you talkin' at a party and we talk too much Then, uh, we goin' home with me Now if you came with a friend that don't wanna do my man Then you need to give her your keys Tell her to call you tomorrow or give you a beep Cause tonight, you going home with me, ya heard? [JD] Now, is it because my name's Jermaine? no It's all about how I kick my game, you know? I just flow with it, spend a little dough with it Entertain, before you know, I'm in your brain doing my thang Tellin' you how good you smell Send you up for a drop top cruise through the A-T-L Now when they tipsy, it's risky, you don't know what you facin' Fuck around and end up like Anthony Mason So I let'em know a few things before we leave Like, "it's true, I tapes damn near everything" So don't even think about lyin', baby Or try baby, to set me up for rape cause it's all on tape Where you said put the cake How you fed me the grapes What I did with the ice that made you shake, shake Now when the night's over and the girl is gone I'm back up in the club singin' the same damn song [Chorus] Now, walk in, I'm the grown man that you figure to trick But I'm feelin' your dress, girl and lovin' your hips But I'm buggin' off this, "Why you stuck on the wrist?" Golddigger, huh, mommy? Oh, you ain't that bitch? Ain't that some shit? Suddenly, you hugs and kisses Gotta be the dough you holdin' so obvious wit' it I get G's to flash, T.V.'s in the dash See Sinbad, watchin' Vibe, ladies clockin' to ride Luxury flows, lengerie hoes, R.O.C. hit'em mo' than Jose Conseco Uh, RBI's, orange top fly, the brown skin, slim The nice braids, brown eyes R.O.C.'s stay pimpin' from Jersey to Richmond Y'all playas waitin' to ball like 6th men I'm done with the game, point spread by a hundred Speakin' of hundreds, five's is a nice way to slide it, let's ride [Chorus] |
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