Tekster:
Jerk Wrong

you can hurt me I'd love you to try And if you can find me And if you can see me And if you can show me I'd live you to try You're fucking wrong Its

jerkin' I ran over to him, put my hand on his chest Hole like an apple in the side of his neck His eyes glanced up, his body jerked once more There's

And I always find, yeah, I always find something wrong You been putting up with my shit just way too long I'm so gifted at finding what I don't like the

churches, the coffins The heartbroken mothers, it happens, too often The problems, the things, we use, to solve 'em Yonkers, the Bronx, Brooklyn, Harlem The hurt, the pain, the dirt, the rain The jerk

but his hands around my throat anad squeeze as if the sounds I made should not escape into the air causing me to moan too loudly as I jerked on out the

Cause there's something I should let you know, oh It ain't the length or the width, it's the way I work it And like he said, girl, I'm-a jerk, jerk, jerk

on this Hidey ho Well hello, howdy do, how are you, that's good Who me, still hot, I still got, you got me nigga I'm here, I'm there, cause I'm wrong

You said he made you happy sometimes But he spends way too much time at work And his family worked yo' nerves, baby Momma was a jerk and his kissing

' too good Fuckin' did what I could, ready to bitch in the wood For all the shit you do, just when you think you sly What goes around, comes around, the wrong