Dessy Hinds Mo Wetter Blues Lyrics
Mo Wetter Blues by Dessy Hinds
They want too many other new shoes,
But still, this shorty seem just like a shoen,
The feet was getting rufus 'cause the size of it was in nuisance.
I stay right on top f the feelings, but bottom line,
That bottom line can make you slap a bottom all the time.
Tough luck, plus she had absolutely no part of me,
If harmony pardons me, I wait in terms of monogamy.
But I have bottles in front of me, they're the friend of lobotomy.
'Cause, honestly, they have each other the same come out as lobotomy.
These scandalous female grow like ...
And I watch 'em speak, and couldn't care about these feelings
Unless your pocket's filling deep.
But all we really need are good chicks to light the flame,
To match the candlelight dinner, we able the 28.
And all it really takes is me having the take to cut your cake,
To put it in your face, and that's exactly how we gonna face.
Raise my standards so high, but I don't keep on forgetting low
Piano notes, gotta swank them like you need me.
A smooth gal, nice enough to be unequaled, rude gal,
We can hit too l's and get too coll for any new pals.
But let me break it down, let me brake it down for now,
Your services were necessary when you stepped int my town.
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
You know that mouth flies out the door when money comes in your window,
Old flames try to get some light, but they ain't indoor.
I'm drownin' in sorrows while I'm drowning our lingo,
What's the body language for that lingerie says wet simply simple,
After that, I get the feeling that she's skipping on my relation,
But I'm not gonna take the chance, the thirst's one of
The slow cause of dehydration.
I'm three thousand mile away, in the ... Himalayas,
They want the players, but still they're arguing like why you trying to play us?
On that note, like the saxophone, you bound to blow,
While this poem grows with a florescent exception for hoes.
I keep money in clothes, half existing in my natural thing,
But I've been thinking from 47 bottles been drinking.
But it ain't no coming back from life in a crash,
So times go prior for the ant from emptying trash to running these tracks.
And that I should not forget, there's no forgetting the past,
So I be keeping every future wife remembering when they got the last.
A smooth gal, nice enough to be unequaled, rude gal,
We can hit too l's and get too coll for any new pals.
But let me break it down, let me brake it down for now,
Your services were necessary when you stepped int my town.
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
Shorties, put your legs up, wave 'em in the air,
Ring yo' motherfuckers like you just don't care,
We got 47 niggers and 47 bitches,
Go lap some switches, little wet swimmers like fishes.
Shorties, put your legs up, wave 'em in the air,
Ring yo' motherfuckers like you just don't care,
We got 47 niggers and 47 bitches,
Go lap some switches, little wet swimmers like fishes.
But still, this shorty seem just like a shoen,
The feet was getting rufus 'cause the size of it was in nuisance.
I stay right on top f the feelings, but bottom line,
That bottom line can make you slap a bottom all the time.
Tough luck, plus she had absolutely no part of me,
If harmony pardons me, I wait in terms of monogamy.
But I have bottles in front of me, they're the friend of lobotomy.
'Cause, honestly, they have each other the same come out as lobotomy.
These scandalous female grow like ...
And I watch 'em speak, and couldn't care about these feelings
Unless your pocket's filling deep.
But all we really need are good chicks to light the flame,
To match the candlelight dinner, we able the 28.
And all it really takes is me having the take to cut your cake,
To put it in your face, and that's exactly how we gonna face.
Raise my standards so high, but I don't keep on forgetting low
Piano notes, gotta swank them like you need me.
A smooth gal, nice enough to be unequaled, rude gal,
We can hit too l's and get too coll for any new pals.
But let me break it down, let me brake it down for now,
Your services were necessary when you stepped int my town.
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
You know that mouth flies out the door when money comes in your window,
Old flames try to get some light, but they ain't indoor.
I'm drownin' in sorrows while I'm drowning our lingo,
What's the body language for that lingerie says wet simply simple,
After that, I get the feeling that she's skipping on my relation,
But I'm not gonna take the chance, the thirst's one of
The slow cause of dehydration.
I'm three thousand mile away, in the ... Himalayas,
They want the players, but still they're arguing like why you trying to play us?
On that note, like the saxophone, you bound to blow,
While this poem grows with a florescent exception for hoes.
I keep money in clothes, half existing in my natural thing,
But I've been thinking from 47 bottles been drinking.
But it ain't no coming back from life in a crash,
So times go prior for the ant from emptying trash to running these tracks.
And that I should not forget, there's no forgetting the past,
So I be keeping every future wife remembering when they got the last.
A smooth gal, nice enough to be unequaled, rude gal,
We can hit too l's and get too coll for any new pals.
But let me break it down, let me brake it down for now,
Your services were necessary when you stepped int my town.
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
(What is she giving me?)
Mo'Wetter Blues, Mo'Wetter Blues,
Shorties, put your legs up, wave 'em in the air,
Ring yo' motherfuckers like you just don't care,
We got 47 niggers and 47 bitches,
Go lap some switches, little wet swimmers like fishes.
Shorties, put your legs up, wave 'em in the air,
Ring yo' motherfuckers like you just don't care,
We got 47 niggers and 47 bitches,
Go lap some switches, little wet swimmers like fishes.