Liar, Liar

[Verse One: Queen Heroine] I'm bad broad, still mad gods be actin' like the word one backwards They actors Marlon Brandos, so if you mad coals, then brand yours, big baller Ice-T status, not discrete Instead of that sneak mode madness Accessible strictly through cell phones, chattin' Make it known, you wanna bone? You're not alone We grown folk, like Tone Loc Your tone low When askin' what's happenin' While babymama's goin' spastic You're full of havoc Drama, but no pull like elastic in old pajamas I'm a goner Tried to stay, but you hit and run like Tonka games What a shame, so lame Full of excuses, just put it plain, the truth is ... [Hook, sung] "Somebody release me!" [COME ON, OF COURSE NOT] "Somebody release me!" [WITH ALL OF YOUR FORCED PLOTS] "Somebody release me!" [COME ON, OF COURSE NOT] "Anyway. Anyway." [Spoken simultaneously] "Every time I talk to this dude he think I don't know what's goin' on with baby mama drama. Shit I'm a mama too, I know what's the word, kid, if it's just about sex, then you know, we could do that. Playing games and whatnot, I don't even got the time for this shit anymore, man. Done. Your homeboy or something must be grimy as fuck, anyway son" [Verse Two: Breeze] Anyway you tell it, hey forget it, come on son You straight pathetic, save a debt and get Jon Lovitz Yeah, yeah ... that's the ticket to catch a trick It's like, yeah yeah, catch a kick in your derriere Then it's still there, maybe you're pathological Crazy, the bastard hardly knows, hey, see that be horrible With everything that you say, you're a deceiver who When at the end of the day, you believe in you Complete madness, modern day Pinocchio Probably great for pokin' low on some Humpty Dance With the 69 ticklin', shit, be like dickin' it Other than your slut it's damaged and wild sick of it So leave the art of storytelling for Slick Rick I see you on the floor be yellin' the blip-blip Please stop still frontin', why'd you hit me? He popped steel cause your style was shifty So yeah, I told you buddy, and you can doubt, yeah But the truth is out there, don't let it mold your scully On some X-Files reruns, ex-style, he's done Should have took a next route, see son? [Hook, sung] "Somebody release me!" [COME ON, OF COURSE NOT] "Somebody release me!" [WITH ALL OF YOUR FORCED PLOTS] "Somebody release me!" [COME ON, OF COURSE NOT] "Anyway. Anyway." [Spoken simultaneously] "Hey yo, you know homeboy? Word he was tellin' me he got this and that. With labels. Like yo, where you work? He's like, yo I work at Def Jam. Word? That's what's up. Like boom, boom. Yo let me lay you with some stuff. Then my man come to tell me, like yo, homeboy work in the cafeteria. Like what you gon' do? You gonna hit Jay-Z with a joint, while, you know, givin' him salad?" [Verse Three: Wordsworth] Being caught so many times in a lie Plenty tries to deny Each story two size to provide Cross fingers, cross my heart and hope to die Hit by lightning from the sky may strike any time I reply Can't say nothin' nice for the life of you Lyin' isn't right but in the right situations, it's polite to do Like when it's your wife and you, it's slightly true When you say, "you lost weight, you look good And that dress lookin' nice on you" But let me spin it after you been in it and split it The wife fibbin' that you handlin' your business but didn't Won't admit it: two minutes and you finished She biggin' you up to the man But her hands make her climb to the limit Now dig it The truth: easier leaving it out Like when you're five minutes away but you're just leaving your house And the basis is need-to-know Just wrote this I lied to Breeze and told him that I had this verse ready a week ago Let's keep it low [Hook, sung] "Somebody release me!" [COME ON, OF COURSE NOT] "Somebody release me!" [WITH ALL OF YOUR FORCED PLOTS] "Somebody release me!" [COME ON, OF COURSE NOT] "Anyway. Anyway." [Spoken simultaneously] Nah I'm saying, you look good in that dress right there. It's tight! No I don't mean tight like small on you, I mean like tight "look good" you know what I'm sayin'? Why don't you wear something like flats or something, make you look, you know, more smaller. I mean TALLER. Know what I'm saying? I mean, what does it matter what I think anyway, it's about what you think. Know what I mean? [Stop lyin'!] (scratched) [That's a lie!] (scratched)