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    Vast Aire
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    The Crush

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    Song Info

    The Crush
    Released


      About "The Crush"

      Lyrics for Vast Aire - "The Crush"

      This is not a love song. Naa.

      I had a crush on Tawanda she went to IS230
      Figure eight she was so curvy
      Had an arch in her back with mad jewelery
      Every Neanderthal wanted that cutie
      Good complexion not too thin
      She got the baddest trim
      I ain't talking about her hair cut
      She worked at my man's job
      She made 11th grader's wanna cradle rob
      She got the sweet potato, I got the corn on the cob
      Tuck your shirt in she don't take no slobs
      If you saw her smile, she had a bad attitude and a wicked profile
      Gorgeous face and a nice style, it make you say "Damn you can have my child"
      Got me thinking all this is worth my while
      With my head in the clouds screaming loud

      [Chorus x2]
      I got a love Jones, for your body and your skin tone
      Five minutes alone I'm already on the bone
      Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own
      So you can sit by the throne

      She looked good in the winter, better in the summer
      I met her at the bus stop, she gave me her number
      Sometimes we would go out and then slumber
      She me yours, I'll show you mine (She lift up her sweater)
      Back then no girl could do better
      I really dug Karen, or was it Annetta
      Or was it Vanessa, Stacey or Tracie
      I didn't like Jessica, she was too spacey
      Mia's got attitude, Janice got her tittie out
      Missy's gay, Via's got her ass out
      But Melissa's on the bed drinking wine
      Don't hate on me Pa, I got pimp designs

      [Chorus]

      Pink cookies in a plastic bag getting crushed by the empire states
      Come on baby why wait
      Let's make whoopee today
      I'm a Frankenstein valentine (how's that)
      'Cause I can separate my heart from my mind
      You were to emotional and then about three seconds I'm about to go postal
      In other words, crazy nigga with a gun
      I got a crush on you but you ain't the one
      She was using sex as a weapon
      Her aim was precise it kept me guessing
      It kept me stepping
      I was on my toes until I learnt my lesson
      My man tried to tell me I was slippin' (slippin' man)
      I ain't even no I was trippin'
      But this is not a love song
      Well, maybe it is
      Maybe I'm frontin'
      Why don't you pull my card
      If the deuce is wild, I'll let down my guard

      [Chorus]

      SONGWRITERS:
      Fallon, Brian
      Powered and licensed by LyricFind
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