[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]