Lyrics
Til we get it, I’ma get it
‘Til we get it
‘Til we get it, I’ma get it
‘Til we get it
You say all you need is consistent love
When I try I swear it’s never enough, I messed up
Maybe this thing here just ain’t meant for us
Baby you let go and I pull you back
I let go, you ain’t having that
We do it like we rock stars (Oh)
Sexin’ in my hotel room, we be so loud
Higher than a smoke cloud (Oh)
Shades on, doin’ 95 with the top down
I might sound crazy (Oh)
‘Cause we be goin’ back and forth
One minute I hate you, then I love you
That’s just how it is
‘Til we get it right we gon’ fuck some more, ’til we get it
I’ma get it, I’ma get it, ’til we get it, ’til we get it
‘Til we get it right we gon’ fuck some more, I’ma get it
I’ma get it, ’til we get it, ’til we get it, I’ma get it (Turn up)
Why is it all so complicated?
Baby this should be simple, it’s driving me mental
But when you back it up it really drives me crazy
And you know what I’m into
Make me forget what we arguing about, ay
We do it like we rock stars (Oh)
Sexin’ in my hotel room, we be so loud
Higher than a smoke cloud (Oh)
Shades on, doin’ 95 with the top down
I might sound crazy (Oh)
‘Cause we be going back and forth
One minute I hate you, then I love you
That’s just how it is
‘Til we get it right we gon’ fuck some more, ’til we get it
I’ma get it, I’ma get it, ’til we get it, ’til we get it
‘Til we get it right we gon’ fuck some more, I’ma get it
I’ma get it, ’til we get it, ’til we get it, I’ma get it (Yo, turn up)
He don’t know me but he settin’ up to blow me, uh
Said my Twitter picture ‘mind him of Naomi, uh
On the low I used to holla at his homie, uh
Fuck it, now I’m ’bout to ride him like a pony, yeah
Okay, thug prolly, yo come polly
He wanna fuck a bad Dolly and pop Molly
I hope your pockets got a motherfuckin’ pot belly
Or is it that you never ball? John Salley
He had the Rolls in his Royce, the tone in his voice
Don’t want a good girl, naw, hoes is his choice
D-D-Dick on H, p-p-pussy on W
Mouth on open, a-a-ass on smother you
A-A-Ass on the cover too, Elle Magazine
Vroom, vroom, vroom, get gasoline
Could I be your wife? Nah, we could bang though
I got these niggas whipped, call me Django
‘Til we get it right we gon’ fuck some more, ’til we get it (Oh-oh)
I’ma get it, I’ma get it, ’til we get it, ’til we get it
‘Til we get it right we gon’ fuck some more, I’ma get it
I’ma get it, ’til we get it, ’til we get it, I’ma get it