[Verse 1: Marc E. Bassy]

I don't even wanna fuck, she don't even wanna trust

She gon' have to see the dollars, she gon' have to see the bus

The second that I bust, I'ma leave her in the dust, yeah

She'll go tell her friends how real it was, oh

She don't love me for the love, she just love me for the plug

Tell her, if she bring a friend, she can do my drugs

I know you can tell, baby, come choose up, yeah

She'll go tell her friends how real it was, oh

[Chorus: Marc E. Bassy]

Baby girl, I can read your problems

In the back of the gossip columns

Whisper to me, boy, don't tell a soul no

But we know that everybody knows

[Verse 2: Marc E. Bassy]

Baby girl don't know what's real, she just know I front the bill (Yes, I do)

Fly you out to Ocean Drive, hit the club all off a pill (Yes, we could)

Didn't think that I would snitch, that's the way I'm like a bitch

I love telling all the homies all the freaky shit we did

Can't believe this shit, she just wanna pic

Really think she slick, she just want the plug

Girl, get on this dick, that should be enough

For your freaky ass, we gon' hit the tub

Give that ass a bath all that dick you suck

Been a freak since you was young

Been in trouble with your mom, that's the type I like

I'ma mow your lawn, I'ma make you cum

Over, over, like mama ain't home

Is it real or is it silicone?

I don't know, I'ma find out soon

I'm gonna find out soon, yes I will

[Verse 3: Bobby Brackins]

How you gon' keep it real, never keep it real

Never seen a bill

Flies your ass first class before I copped the feel

On my FIFA still, kicked out asses to the curb

I don't care 'bout who you know

That name-dropping get on my nerve

Baby, can you keep a secret?

Ain't no need to tell your girls

All your friends just kind of fine

And after you, I'm to your girls

Oh my gosh, I'm so with this shit, I hope you with this shit

Girl, I'm bent, I'm coming over there

To do some freaky shit, oh yes, I will

[Chorus: Marc E. Bassy]

Baby girl, I can read your problems

In the back of the gossip columns

Whisper to me, boy, don't tell a soul, no

But we know that everybody knows

Baby girl, I can read your problems

In the back of the gossip columns

Whisper to me, but don't tell a soul, no

But we know that everybody knows

[Outro: Marc E. Bassy]

Whisper to me, don't you tell nobody

Don't you tell nobody

Yeah, nobody has to know