Big Boi - Pink Matter (Remix) lyrics

rate me

And the peaches and the mangos you could sell for me.

What do you think my brain is made for

Is it just a container for the mind

This great grey matter.

Sensei replied what is your woman

But she just a container for the child

That soft pink matter..

Cotton candy..Majin Buu uh uh uh.

Close my eyes and fall into you you you,

My god she's giving me pleasure.

What if the sky and the stars are for show

And the aliens are watching live

From the purple matter.

Sensei went quiet then violent

And we sparred until we both grew tired

Nothing mattered

Cotton candy Majin Buu uh uh.

Oh oh, then the lights seem fall into you you you

My god, giving me pleasure

Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure

Pleasure, over matter.

Does it matter if she wanna be with me so is cool?

I make her call me BB King cause I give her the blues

not on purpose though, she was the perfect hoe

is this when I come over we do the grossest

most beautifullest things on a bed of roses

so what the coldest? when we hit the hard wood floor

we sippin yac' not mimosas

she sittin' my nigga lap going HAM like she supposed to

and she can make it clap if I told her

or make her ass spread like the back of a cobras

tell her add tities like a soldier, G.I.Joe man see me I go in

(yeah that nigga goes up in there)

like smoke through a chimney

slow stroke cause she feelin' me up in her nigga

killin' me softly rolled off she wants me

strong and black like a coffee, get off me

act a donkey, I pin her tail to the mattress

I been a player make her go from classic to nasty (nasty, nasty, nasty)

Just loose.

Since you've been gone I've been having withdrawals

You were such a habit to call

I ain't myself at all had to tell myself no

She's better with some fella with a regular job

I didn't wanna get her involved

By dinner Mr. Benjamin was sitting in awe

Hopped into my car drove far

Far too close and I remember

My memories no sharp

Butter knife, what a life, anyway

I’m building y'all a clock, stop, what am I Hemingway?

She had the kind of body

That would probably intimidate

Any of em that were unsouthern

Not me cousin

If models are made for modeling

Thick girls are made for cuddlin'

Switch worlds and we can huddle then

Who needs another friend

I need to hold your hand

You need no other man

We flee to other lands.

Blue used to be my favorite color

Now I ain't got no choice

Blue matter.

You're good at being bad

You're bad at being good

For heaven's sakes go to hell

Not knock on wood

You're good at being bad

You're bad at being good

For heaven's sakes go to hell

Knock knock knock knock on wood

Well frankly when that ocean so muphucking good

Make her swab the muphucking wood

Make her walk the muphucking plank

Make her rob a muphucking bank

With no mask on and a rusty revolver.