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Hands On Them Knees (With Duna)
If there was such-such-such a thing
(I wrote you a poem, naw but listen to it)
Chance Le Rappeur?
Roses are red
Moses rose from the dead
To show his chosen souls across an ocean of red
Travel through Goliath and the burning roses to get
His Queen Esther from the lions, then return to the bed
See it's Biblical, it's science
It was written in the stars
It's pivotal we meet again, it's been a little hard
See we met a million times, Little Mama, you just forget a lot
I was your king, you used to march for me: Coretta Scott
Simpsons and cake, shrimp then the steak
Candle-lit forever, you good?
That poetry, you know it's me
Your boy, the kid, the lover
Rapping til we breaded up, or wedded up
Forever love, Chance
Okay
She spotted me and moved in like a U-Haul
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I swear this bitch need to curve, change it up, maybe screwball
Only good for the neck, lei at Luau
Brain only second to Mrs. Duvalle, but she stalk like fee-fi-fo-fum
And go dumb, like a Bay Area poem
Whenever she peep at the kid strollin', strings attached no violin
She say, 'I think about you every time my eyes open
And when they closed, I still see your face bright as day'
Well baby girl, all of that, it really is nice as May
But I'm not really about that life
Pardon me
My mistake
We seem to have conflicted interest
Cause I gotta keep that kitty on the side
No big whiz, or rap floor-mat
I'm sure this is probably stinging like a hornet
But performing is my only woman, until I start touring
But, you don't want to hear about that. Just fall back
And do me a favor, stop showing up where my house at. Bitch!
No for real. Like stop showing up
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