Sir - LA Lisa Lyrics

No, it ain't a question, not even an issue
Nobody knows you like I know ya
You grew up on Queen Street, your dad is a gangsta
But he's gettin' older
He was in love with the street life
Used to seein' niggas tuckin' the heat right
Live parties and street fights
Hangin' with the players, got caught in the game
Now you're in need of seating but ain't we all the same
I thought if we make it out alive
You might end up on my side (my side, my side)
Guess we'll have to wait and see
If you'll find your way to me

La Lisa
La Lisa
La Lisa
I need ya

A'ight, I'ma stack these all day
That's my cuz, so he gangbang
But I don't claim shit, nah, no baggage
Not even a briefcase, you're more street than me, but
The only reason I'm out this way
Get a little ratchet, stay over color, your box
Don't tell your daddy, he might go Crayola
Hurry up and come outside
I got the wheel parked, it's 'bout to get dark
I'm talkin' Wesley, and we out West, you know it be
Sit these niggas on your block
And I can't do dolo this time, on a solo this time
Like CeCe Winans, not whinin', but
Not finna play with you, I'm tryna skate with you
Like T.I. and New New we on the couch late at night like Fallon (Fallon)
I've fallin', she got used to them scrubs, she a RN (yeah yeah)
Darlin', Miss Lisa, she a moaner
So bad, put your ass in the MoMA
Yes, put that on my momma
Pour Moët, it's a moment
She finally slid to my house
And threw me the neck like a geese
It made me speak Portuguese
Ain't even know I could
We wanted this for a while
We keep it between you and me, capice, Lisa, Lisa

La Lisa
La Lisa
La Lisa
I need ya

I can't believe this nigga ain't call me back
Ol' Chief Keef head ass
Mekhi Phifer off 8 Mile lookin' head ass
He ain't call me back? (I can't believe this)
I bet he don't even write his songs
Talkin' 'bout, talkin' 'bout he the King of R&B
That nigga can't even move like Usher
Ain't Chris workin' on something? (He trippin') mhmm
I thought we had a good time
Well I had a good time, that weed was fire bro