I begin, em, Ain't no such thing as a plutonic friend, your lying to yourself if you don't think you want more, so don't you call me insecure when he
kids, no knives on the street When the ice cream man came around the way Lord, Miss Patti, won't you help me sing Lord knows how I miss those days [
shoes, Timbs mo hotta We still grip arms Brook norm bound sh-t The streets don't want that watered down sh-t Fam, we clear the whole stage You don't wannaa