I'm gettin' tired of your Shit You don't never buy me nothin' See Everytime you come around You got to bring Jim, James, Paul, and Tyrone See why can't we be by ourselves, sometimes See I've been having this on my mind For a long time I just want it to be You and me Like it used to be, Baby But ya don't know how to act So matter of fact
(Chorus) I think ya better call Tyrone (Call Him) And Tell him come on, Help you get your Shit (Come On, Come on)
You need to Call Tyrone (Call Him) And tell him I said come on
Now everytime I ask you for a little cash You say no and turn right around and ask me for some ass Oh, Well hold up Listen partna I ain't no cheap thrill Cause Miss Badu is always comin' for real And you know the deal
Every time we go somewhere I gotta reach down in my purse To pay your way and your homeboys' way And sometimes your cousin's way
They don't never have to pay Don't have no cars Hang around in bars Try to hang around with stars Like Badu I'm gon' tell you the truth Showing groove Or get the boot
I think ya better (Call Him) And tell him come on Help you get your shit
You need to call Tyrone (Call Him) Hold On But ya can't use my phone