I'm not a singer but
you got me strung out on melodies,
feeling like I can sing if you just
play something for me.
You got me hoping you'd chase my words
with your lips
so I don't gotta think them no more.
Rumi was always way ahead.
He could see it on me,
read it in my stolen touches,
my smile that was way too big.
You call me your wordsmith and
that's what I am, can't be nothin else.
You got my heart hoppin, palms sweatin
hopelessly pinin for you.
Got me pursin my lips in case praises choke me
and spill from my mouth like a fountain.
I said I loved you like a brother but
I'd much rather you were my lover.
These thoughts of mine are far from brotherly.
Watchin those dexterous digits make magic,
Shaolin so fuckin fantastic,
I meant it when I said you a natural everything.
I said you were my man and that's not the same as a friend.
As your man I could
watch those hips twist as you spin,
watch you bite your lip and imagine things
I ain't supposed to think about.
You ain't a fag, nah.
But with that twinkle in your eye you teasin me.
Spinnin and grinnin
looking like a fresh glass of koolaid on a summer's day all wet.
Got a nigga wishin he was the condensation just
I think you get the metaphor.
I especially like it when I tell you something
and you look at me like you ain't seen me before.
Fresh in your eyes like a cool breeze,
making me laugh and shit.
Hands absent on my thigh while my mind goes places it shouldn't be.
Head so close my hands itchin to thread through you fro.
I ain't a fag though.
And I don't like that word either, or the way Cadillac says it.
I'm not jealous.
I pity him for having a beast for a mother.
I don't wanna taint this so imma make it brief.
She stole from you Curtis
and I'm sorry.
You opened up and I pushed you off me.
You're dealings with her cut me deep.
Thinking about my man off in those streets and
not in my sheets, had me all sorts of fucked up.
Wanting to hold you to me as the projects set ablaze around us
but instead being fucking hopeless to you fallin.
Rememberin you telling me to cross the street,
feelin like you loved dealin more than me.
I said you weren't in the real world but
I get it now.
I weren't either.
Idolising Mylene, getting mad at you
for my parents and it weren't even your fault.
Shit. Curtis. I'm sorry