Another Statistic Lyrics

Four out of ten murders are love related Keep your 'ood, in-a your pants And these things won't 'appen to you Check out da bwoy-a-story
Tell him, excuse me, I beg your pardon Inform him, that Chubb is playin' in your secret garden 'Cause he didn't cut the lawn, correctly I have a green thumb, you're not dumb, that's why you sweat me
You wanna have your cake and eat it too, so do I You're sneaking around, we're sneaking around, so why Do you wanna continue, comin' to every venue? You don't tell him, I'll offend you
This ain't right so put him down on the scoop That you're a blow-up sex doll for every group Where are the footsteps that you followed Tippy-toed to my crib and did me a solid
You answered every question I ever had On the female anatomy, after you sat on me Cheating is more serious than the taking of pellum So tell him, before I tell him
If Mary had told her boyfriend Like she was supposed to None of this would be happening
Tell him, his feelings, you disregard You took his credit card, went on the boulevard You bought me shirt after shirt with his hard-earned work You treat him like dirt
My conscience said to me, yo Chubbs you better be careful She gave you the keys to his Cherokee jeep But I don't wanna go six feet deep In the dirt for some skirt
I was gonna cut her off but the stuff was kinda dope The dope even paid my car note, nope I'm gonna let her go yet until I get This girl can really get me out of financial debt
So I chill, passion kills, tears spilled On an innocent grill then overspilled The guilt, stuck in my chest so I suggest That you tell him, maybe you can start off fresh Cheating is more serious than the taking of pellum So tell him, before I tell him
If Mary had told her boyfriend Like she was supposed to None of this would be happening
Here's one more bang for the road Never again will you explode Like this you might miss the imprint of my fist Embedded in the bed by your head
"Don't leave me Chubb, don't leave me Chubb", she screamed I got access to all of his green I lust for your pelvic thrust so why don't you trust Don't fuss, he'll never find out about us
But baby, I can't see you no more and Let me see who's at the door
Yo, who are you? Who me? You don't know man? Why I'm gonna shoot ya
If Chubbs had kept his prick in his pants Like he was supposed to None of this would have happened