I cannot believe it
I cannot believe it
Real life though
I cannot believe it
She from Jamaica, Queens, only came to Harlem to shop
Her mother just got a divorce and her father a cop
I learned this about 10 minutes in the conversation
I'm thinking I don't even know you, why that information?
My head was racin', I'm pacin' back and forth
Asked her for her number, her name Keisha, nice to meet ya
She said she never fucked with nobody from Harlem
I've got homies from south side, I figured I would call them
I found exact locations and where she grew up
Her moms new boyfriend got some coke, then he blew up
She used to play with credit cards and line niggas at night clubs
Fucked a couple niggas but left 'em cause she ain't like love
I was down in Flight Club, Keisha text me like "What you doing?"
"I scuffed up my retro's, I'm bout to cop some new ones"
She said she at the Mandarin Oriental in Columbus circle
She got some sour but she wanted purple
I told her later we can link up
I called my youngin Conner bring an eighth to her
He plotting on taking her
Funny lil' nigga, but fuck it, that's how we raised
If it ain't wifey than all the homies can play
Back to Keisha, she black but had them Spanish features
Fire seven, most these niggas would plan to keep her
I got that drop from my homie that knew her, he went to school with her
Said he used to be cool with her, but he ain't fuck her though
Con' callin' me, I forgot to text him the address
I'm going through some other shit, honestly got me mad stressed
If Con' delivered that, we 'bout to meet
I gotta a club tonight, told Keisha if she up I hit her when it's over
Now it's rosé, henny, rosé, henny
Strippers all over me, I ain't throwing a penny
Got a text from Keisha, "I'm in room 17C
I know your with your homies now but later come and see me"
I'm rollied out, sky dweller, the light hittin' it right
I'm hearing niggas talking like, "That's Dave East, that nigga nice"
[?] told me 30 minutes, flat line, backwoods I pack mine
Unless I want 'em harsher, please don't no one bother
I called my driver and told him take me to midtown
Had to stop for condoms cause raw ain't the way I get down
He dropped me off, I told him "Park it and don't leave yet
Let me see what this bitch about, something I gotta figure out"
I'm in the 'tele, I hit the elevator blunted
Stumbling, just hennessey and rosé in my stomach
Figure we fuckin' and then order some room service
I knocked twice, she opened the door but so nervous
Maybe I was buggin, I was drunk, she was ready though
Came up out of everything, R. Kelly on the radio
Slim waist, Hershey chocolate skin, ass heavy though
On everything, I fucked this bitch delirious, shit Eddie know
Henny taking over, we passed out, at least I did
15,000 in my balmain's, I'm lackin'
I put my rollie in the dresser with like four chains
My id and my bank cards, iPhone 6 to make calls
Condom box of 3-pack, I used two of them
Brand new Fendi sneakers, the club just ruined 'em
Something told me wake up, I checked the bed
Nothin' but pillows and cover, I had to shake my head
I checked me jeans, every dollar gone, that's 15k
All my chains and my rollie missing
I put my shit on, looking for my phone, that shit was gone too
I'm ready to kill Keisha, what the fuck I'm gon' do?
I told myself I wasn't drinking, why the fuck I get bent?
And how the fuck I get robbed?
I ran out, my driver sleep I woke him up like "You ain't see that bitch
Brown skin, thick, probably moving on some schemin' shit?"
He telling me that he was sleeping, waiting on my phone call
I cannot believe this shit, can't wait until I see this bitch
This for every nigga that be slippin' cause he think he rich
Keisha you a sneaky bitch, called shooter I'ma need the grip
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