Home Song Lyrics Tyrone lyrics Erica Wright / Norman Hurt

Tyrone lyrics Erica Wright / Norman Hurt

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Alright then, Alright then
I’m gettin’ tired of your shit
You don’t never buy me nothin’
And every time you come around
You gotta bring Jim, John, Paul and Tyrone
Now, why can’t we be by ourselves sometimes?
See, I’ve been having this on my mind
For a long time
I just want it to be you and me
Like it used to be, baby
But you don’t know how to act
So matter of fact
I think you better call Tyrone
(Call him)
And tell him, come on, help you get your shit
(Come on, come on, come on)
You need to call Tyrone
(Call Him)
And tell him I said, come on
Now, every time I ask you for a little cash
You say no but turn right around
And ask me for some ass
Oh well, hold up, listen partner, I ain’t no cheap thrill
‘Cause Miss Badu’s always comin’ for real
And you know the deal
Every time we go somewhere
I gotta reach down in my purse
To pay your way and your homeboys way
And sometimes your cousin’s way
When we all went out to eat
You made me ride in the backseat
And that ain’t right, child
I said, that ain’t right child
So I think you better call Tyrone
(Call him)
And tell him, come on, help you get your shit
(Come on, come on, come on)
You need to call Tyrone
(Call him)
But you can’t use my phone
Oh, take my pills, pay my bills
I’m here to let you know that what I feel is real
(Call him)
Take the daylight with you, it’s no thrill
(Come on, come on, come on)
It’s gettin’ late, no time to wait
You need to go on so I can meditate
(Call him)
Light my cone, sing my song
I don’t give a damn if I’m right or wrong
(Call him)
Toodluu, toodluu, yade yadad dad dad dad
(Come on, come on, come on)
Day or night, wrong or right
Tell your boys to find another place to watch the fight
(Call him)
Don’t make me go get Big Mike, oh
So, tell your boys at the liquor store
That you gon’ need a place to go
(Call him)
I don’t care but you gots to leave
You can tell ’em you broke up with me
(Come on, come on, come on)
I wanted you to massage my toes
But you rather play dominoes
(Call him)
So baby, get up off your knees and hands
And go and tell it to the preacher man
But first I think you better call Tyrone
(Call him)
And tell him come on help you get your shit
(Come on, come on, come on)
You need to call Tyrone
(Call him)
Hold up, but you can’t use my phone
Songwriters: Erica Wright / Norman Hurt

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