Description
All up in the blogs
Saying we met at the bar
When I don't even know who you are
Saying we up in your house
Saying I'm up in your car
But you in LA and I'm out at Jermaine's
I'm up in the A
You so so lame
And no one here even mentions your name
It must be the weed, it must be the E
'Cause you've beem popping hood
You get it popping
Oh, why you so obsessed with me (boy, I wanna know)
Lying that you're sexing me (when everybody knows)
It's clear that you're upset with me
Finally found a girl that you couldn't impress
Last man on the earth still couldn't hit this
You're delusional, you're delusional
Boy you're losing your mind
It's confusing yo', you're confused you know
Why you're wasting your time?
Got you all fired up with your Napoleon complex
Seeing right through you like you're bathing in Windex
Oh, oh, oh boy why you so obsessed with me?
So, oh, oh, oh, oh
So, oh, oh, oh, oh (and all my ladies says)
So, oh, oh, oh, oh
So, oh, oh, oh, oh (and all my girls says)
You on your job
You hating hard
Ain't gon' feed you
I'm gonna let you starve
Gasping for air
I'm ventilation
You out of breath
Hope you ain't waiting
Telling the world how much you miss me
But we never were
So why you trippin'?
You a mom and pop
I'm a corporation
I'm the press conference
You a conversation
Oh, why you so obsessed with me (and boy I wanna know)
Lying that you're sexing me (when everybody knows)
It's clear that you're upset with me (oh, oh, oh)
Finally found a girl that you couldn't impress
Last man on the earth still couldn't hit this
You're delusional, you're delusional
Boy you're losing your mind
It's confusing yo, you're confused, you know
Why you wasting your time?
Got you all fired up with your Napoleon complex
Seeing right through you like you're bathing in Windex
Oh, oh, oh, boy why you so obsessed with me
Ah, oh why you so obsessed with me?
(All up in my George Foreman)
Boy, I wanna know
Lying that you're sexing me
(Lying that you're sexing me)
When everybody knows
It's clear that you're upset with me
Oh, oh, oh- Beyoncé
I miss the old Kanye, straight from the 'Go Kanye
Chop up the soul Kanye, set on his goals Kanye
I hate the new Kanye, the bad mood Kanye
The always rude Kanye, spaz in the news Kanye
I miss the sweet Kanye, chop up the beats Kanye
I gotta to say at that time I'd like to meet Kanye
See I invented...
Published 10/11/22
Stine was born on October 8, 1943[2] in Columbus, Ohio,[3] the son of Lewis Stine, a shipping clerk, and Anne Feinstein. He grew up in Bexley, Ohio.[4][5][6] He comes from a Jewish family. Stine began writing at age nine, when he found a typewriter in his attic, subsequently beginning to type...
Published 08/02/22