loving bitch

I gotta story, about money, women, and power And who truly has it Her name, seems to slip my mind But her face is stuck in my brain Can vaguely remember the day we met, see it had rained The road over, on Soppovada was wet And my car wasn't, huggin the terrain So there I came into her lane I was to blame but stopped my headlight in the front Cos I ran into her back But she didn't, over-react, cos her cruiser wasn't even scratched In fact, now that I think, back, I was gettin macked By a tender, oh yeah now I remember Vanessa from Maryland, aggressive and tanned It was December, of '94 and she was finding O attractive Lookin like an actress, skilled in the art of macktress She asked if I was cool, I said "Sure But damn I fell like manure because baby I ain't insured" Her reply - "Poor baby, don't worry, I understand But man makes the money, money never makes the man She said We started chillin, it was all the way live She flipped me a downtown highrise in 1995 8-50i, no more sess highs, strictly chronic and thai Rolled in place in a gold cigarette case Liquorice papers for sweeter taste, my pockets was laced With big head Benjamins, crushed in cinnamon, linen and black Gators Platinum, chains, rings and bracelets Found out she was a mule for the Mob Had plans to rob, and wanted me in on the job Bust this, disgusted, one night in the middle of sex She asked O-Press - "Are you down for this?" And I said "YES! Baby yes!", ugh I must confess it was a bit risky this way But when she hugged and kissed me, uhh, I didn't care Got to the point I didn't even wear underwear Cos she would want it everywhere and anywhere