Girls... Or... Like...

Our Time is limited tonight But I got to send love To all the women in my life From the innocent and bright To the independent type But after we finish You’ll see ‘em in a different light That’s right The girls… are… like… You know the girls… [Verse 1: Psychosiz] The girls… or… like… First edition Vintage prints In Mint condition With inscriptions Cursive written Personally penned in... by Stan motherfuckin’ Lee She was incredible But green with Envy and couldn’t let it go Always wanted to smash on bitches The shit was terrible Territorial even I mean, we’d go to dinner The slightest thing would set her off All bitter off her temper Don’t let her have her friends with her Those bitches Defender Then get all West Coast And want me to Avenger So I kicked her to the curb Absurd My mistake In hindsight I should have shot her into space But I got an Amazing broad To follow in her place Baby was Spectacular They call her Sensational And they should know She was all over the place Bouncing off the walls The friendly neighborhood waitress With traits of a stripper Upside down She put her legs behind her head Then let me take pictures Had to park her She couldn’t let the Mary Jane go Tryna’ fight the high The glide took her on a ride Ran out of fluid and died From the very same blow In a web of lies But I guess that’s how the game go From Surfer broads To Runaways To underrated Strange hoes It’s uncanny The way these Rogue chicks Dazzle me Storm in and Psy locks ‘em down Week after week It’s genetic They hate being called freaks Different shades of blue It’s all the same Mystique Our Time is limited tonight But I got to send love To all the women in my life From the innocent and bright To the independent type But after we finish You’ll see ‘em in a different light That’s right The girls… are… like… You know the girls… [Verse 2: Open Mike Eagle] The girls… or… like… Sick and attractive but I’m sick of the traffic Keys to houses and jeans and blouses So she ain’t stuck on shoppin’ She’s just browsin’ I knew this girl named Rapid Sheryl She worked at Cracker Barrel Wearing some witty dingy black indie rap apparel She has a legion of exes She was in need of protection She had the world’s flyest CD collection So let’s just say she would lace heads With all the new music but none of them fools had to break bread But they turned red in the face and gave chase Occasionally the CD didn’t match what the case said So brothers ran like a base-head chasing a jumbo To the other homegirl Megan Upload Now Megan had to keep it cutthroat Because her home address was well known So to protect herself she switched the letters on her bell code And Lucendit was too business If my package was too big then she’s trippin’ on who zipped it Plus she wanted a subscription Not like the sister Viv-Share Her spot’s nice but I keep hearing viruses live there Kinda like Z-Sheri’s place Cause she’s a freak too and runs around with half-naked chicks offering previews (Dat don’t mean I’m a freak, Boo) I don’t believe you How you got all these rap niggas lead singles? As a youngin’ I would mingle but I’m wiser in old age Ain’t nothing worth bringing a virus back to my home page Our Time is limited tonight But I got to send love To all the women in my life From the innocent and right To the independent type But after we finish You’ll see ‘em in a different light That’s right The girls… are… like… You know the girls… [Verse 3: Dumbfoundead] The girls… or… like… Remote controls and the Oprah show Digital cable you steal from your neighbors Broadcasting live to all the broads passing by Who watch OC but won’t read the Los Angeles Times The blonde plastic types like the ones on Real World I’m down for a Blind Date Deal Or No Deal, girl? You obviously ain’t heard Blowed heads on Pro Tools Cause if you did you’d probably give road head on Road Rules I’m Old School I Love Lucy Cougars like Judge Judy Hug groupies I’m just a player like Doug Flutie It ain’t even playoffs I love New York But there ain’t nothing like Cali hoes Right Too $hort I’m looking for a Top Chef to give me the five o’clock news Waking up to Maury telling me the father’s not you Remember It’s the Man Show The old Jimmy Kimmel Act up and you’ll get replaced like Conan did Leno Don’t you get sent home I’m the one with the last rose Better entertain me You know what happens to bad shows Cancelled