[Verse 1: Dumbfoundead]
The day I met her I looked bummy as hell
Ain't got money, Honey, but down to get you something on sale
She don't care, we gonna bear through the hardships
Prepare to be car sick, two players in this car trip
(she's all game)
A down chick, she's seen my bounced checks
But still ain't bounced yet, and rode to my sound checks
Hoes are down at my shows and as loud as the crowd gets
Comes around with a towel to wipe down my brow sweat
Her flower scent has me ignoring all my account debts
No cash, her friends telling her, "Leave his broke a**"
But she won't dash, no one knows what we both have
And I keep it low-pro so the homies don't laugh
They clowning, "Dumbfoundead that was bit by the bug"
This is the Beatles equal to Can't By Me Love
[Hook]
She don't care that I'm broke
She don't care I ain't got a car
All she wants is to keep me company
She knows I'm a wino
And she knows I'm not yet a star
But on the stereo she keeps on bumping me
[Verse 2: Intuition]
My baby don't care I'm not a baller
She's just happy that I care enough to call her
I only live a little bit above squalor
But when I'm with her I feel 3 feet taller
All her friends try to say she could do so much greater
But me and her we're both like, "Oh shucks hater"
I mean I'm bout to make so much paper
They can kiss my a** cheeks I'll do a toe-touch later
Yup, I only got a single bed
But when she and I be mingling that monetary thing is dead
We don't believe in cream like other rap singers said
She knows I got to pay rent, she don't expect a ring instead
And I do got a car, but it's just a Honda Civic
I can't drive it to far cause it's got a mileage limit
Been working too hard to worry bout some bank digits
We are who we are and that's why we're sticking with it
[Hook]
[Verse 3: NoCanDO]
Yo, fellas(yo)
My girl don't mind if I'm broke
I don't need her
I'm thinking maybe I outta leave her
(No!)
Mama's bad all I had was an olive branch
Thought she wouldn't feel me like a hologram
I was almost Positive K I hear that old' "I got a man"
Then she said let's go Dutch like Rotterdam, damn
She seen me hand to hand hustlin'
Her 12 hours Cal Trans with that court ordered punishment
When I was rocking mics, well, she was rocking them hips
Like a metronome and I'm what made her tick, tick, tick
Baby's brighter than her lip stick is
Lady's tighter than my chip-less fist once wrench-pinched in
She knows I ain't in on that get-rich-quick
But most of all she can kiss, kiss, kiss
She's far from low maintenance
But I keep her closer than I keep them hand-out honeys waiting for donations
[Hook]