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    Текст песни Poor Righteous Teachers - My Three Wives (Shakyla Pt III)

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    Слова песни:
    featuring missjones

    I met the strangest chick imported from Bangladesh
    So what's your angle miss?
    Weak wicked and dangerous?
    She spoke the languages English and Arabic
    Told me very quick she won't be sucking any dick
    Say Wise Intelligent you're unlike most other men
    A lot of brothers been filling me up with compliments
    So where your body's been
    That's all we need to know love
    Can turn this raven to a dove
    Or are you just gon' try to rise above
    Her kiss bionic, stimulating like a roots tonic
    Let's be platonic sister I ain't even hearing it
    You got me fearing that love's among the actual facts
    I gots to come correct, all wise right and exact
    I want you mentally and physically reflecting me
    You wants my agony penetrating sexually
    You won't commit but you persist with this sex shit
    I won't submit cause I'm Allah and God is dominant
    The sex is good but I don't need another lover sis
    I'm on this trip in pursuit of Miss Intelligent
    Not my type but I felt like I could change a bit
    Strange, I had this thing for Miss Bangladesh
    Was it the way she used to feed me fruit and rock me well?
    Her wet body and punanny drip the sweetest smell
    Ain't hard to tell she was the bomb like Nas and Akinyele
    Skin black, poom fat, sexy as hell.

    Chorus (missjones)
    I can't hate you, though I have tried
    Ahhhh, ahhh, ahhh
    I still really really love you
    Love is stronger than pride

    Africa, ain't quite over her
    Scoping her, my style with Ethiopia
    Direct descendant from the Queen of Sheba, Makeba
    And King Solomon, Fela'sha in origin
    The sweetest lips that my tongue ever taste
    Cute face the softest thing my arms ever embraced
    Displaced for centuries form the rest of her race
    Erased from history, see we had that much in common
    We used to kick it on the dock by the Red Sea
    Or on the Nile in a boat made of papyrus leaves
    She told the tales of the perfect love and I was it
    I tell the tales of how I fell for Miss Bangladesh
    Pure finsesse, the moon reflected silhouette
    As I caress the nipples of her naked breast
    Chest to chest, one, flesh of my flesh
    Bone of my bone Africa had it going on
    She spoke "shalom", peace in Hebrew style
    Her voice melodic and exotic like the Virgin Isles
    No Madagascar, or how I was tempted to ask her
    To be my wife but my conscience wouldn't let me trap her
    I felt like I was being selfish to perceiver the thought
    And having sharks crowning me the thief of hearts
    This sister had the kind of beauty Wise Intelligent
    Thinks every brother on the planet should experience

    Chorus
    I can't hate you baby, though I have tried
    Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhh
    I still really really love you
    Love is stronger than pride

    I stopped off to reminsce, it's a natural bliss
    But yo, I fully miss her, sort of like this other sister
    Me and her walked the sands of India
    Me and India, took showers and plenty of
    Baths together, made love in the rainy weather
    Yet even better, I shared many orgasms with her
    She took me home, disconnected the phone
    Played the jazz of Billie Holiday and Nina Simone
    She said a man is not a man if he's no worker man
    Some old Patra shit, but I admit I was loving it
    She said I did it for the love of the shit
    So get it up hold it down like a son of bitch boy
    It brings me joy making me make noise
    But don't you know my roommate's trying to sleep next door
    I said sure, let's swing up out of this piece
    We swung the next episode, back seat of my jeep
    Peep how we did creep, iller sex no sleep
    She blamed it on me because she ain't no freak
    Sing joy to the world the lord is come, let Earth receive her king
    But how you mean, crack a tin relax and I'll explain
    She called me names of ancient kings I called her queen
    I was her first, she called me God I called her Earth
    We just conversed on the first full mooon of May
    And Miss Bombay India still ain't over me.

    Chorus
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