Groupies

I’m not famous, though I will be
But it’s neva 2 late, to have a few groupies
Ya’ll call ‘em hataz but I’m on the positive
Cuz only hataz wanna know exactly how you live
What cars you got & the style you wear
When most niggaz just really don’t care
Groupies come in all shapes, sizes and colors
Literal & metaphorical dick suckas
Or pussy lickas, whicheva they prefer
But they all got Chingy syndrome, dey like da way you do dat right thurr
Had a groupie once whom I called Gwen
She followed me like a puppy & always paid fa my Hen
In the club she did her thang but she got no props
Cuz the way I moved it made the niggaz stop
Her face scrunched up like her thong got torn
& from that day on a groupie was born
Then I had a groupie of a different sort
He was kinda odd & I met him at work
Looked like a rat and it fit the descript
Because every day he was watchin’ my shit
Goin’ back and tellin’ the boss all my biz
I just smiled like JK, sayin’ ‘That’z what dat iz’
Cuz dem groupies ain’t gon hurt ya, they just want some love
That’s why they hand check like Gary the Glove
So this goes out to all the groupies on my coat
I hope, like my cum, you never get my name out ya throat