Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Listening to the Commodores
With my Baby banging on my Door

Sister She devil, we ain’t making it like it’s Saturday night, honey boo
Don’t come a knocking, I mo’ put up a fight, don’t want your ass round here
Sitting here by myself, don’t feel nothing, got a Budweiser beer in my hand
I will make a stand, if you ever get the nerve to call me, I promise you
I promise you, I won’t pick up the phone, go on, leave a message, go on
Talk on up about this that and the other thing, we ain’t in love, we make love
Come bang on my door, stand there and shout, I mo’ call the police station
So don’t bother coming round here, sitting here with my beer watching t.v.
Tyrone wants me over his house, the boys are playing dice, but I ain’t going
Your sorry ass is either behind my door, or you waiting by the street corner
What is this here thing you call love, all you do is shout, you break my heart
Sometimes I feel like moving to Montenegro, don’t know where in hell
Just some place where nobody knows me, I can drink alone by my lonesome
If I ever felt like it, I would walk out of my hotel, go on down find a whore
She do me right, I know, don’t want nothing to do with a white woman
But I know, she bend her ass for me, suck my dick for me, I do her well
Where they at, ain’t seen ‘em round here, girls be hustling, taking my money
I work hard for my money, we had a child now he’s all grown up and gone
Ain’t seen that boy for God knows how long, he calls up when he needs me
Needs me to bail his ass outta jail, but where in hell is he at, where is he at
When his mama needs a run to the store, when his daddy wants more wine
I know it’s Saturday night, got some young ones I’m balling, ain’t telling
No, I ain’t telling, now I know you know, that’s why you waiting out there
Waiting to let me have it, yeah I know you can handle a gun, been to war
But I ain’t scared of you, I been to war myself, shot a few right in the eye
Man, I earned a purple heart, can’t you see, can’t you see I got PTSD
What more you want from me, what in hell do you want me to do, we shop
I take you out shopping, I buy you fur, gold, diamond rings, ain’t it enough
Why you wanna mess with me, you can’t sit there and have a simple talk
Always gotta be something, always gotta be I hurt you, I fucked with you
We ain’t doing it like we used to, our bed ain’t rocking no more, it ain’t
I hump these girls ‘cause they give me what I want, they know for sure
So stand out there, bang the door if you want, I mo’ put on some soul music
Kick back, listen to The Commodores, Brick House, letting it all hang out

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