Letra de Mascara Tears
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featuring T-Pain
(Chorus)
(Chorus)
You ain’t gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood
You ain’t tryina fuck with that dude.
I can tell you had enough of this stuff
Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition
Of beating that pussy up.
I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him
Baby I don’t give a fuck, oh whoa.
If you ain’t happy then, let it go around
Then come back again.
(Verse)
That awkward when they know you groupie
And you pull up to his lambo, in your dirty hoopty
And he fell like he could play you cause you worth little,
Cause your mind small, and your work little.
Life is like a prom night, it only happens once, right?
Better have the right dress, right pumpy
They say you was never raised right,
Can never get them grades right,
Creeping in that late nights from bloody day rape fights.
The lost girl, lost love, red dress, the devil in.
Fighting for your relevance, head butts, evelin
You wanna be a star too, bottles from the bar too
You want paparazzi popping at your car, too.
(Chorus)
You ain’t gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood
You ain’t tryina fuck with that dude.
I can tell you had enough of this stuff
Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition
Of beating that pussy up.
I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him
Baby I don’t give a fuck, oh whoa.
If you ain’t happy then, let it go around
Then come back again.
(Verse)
That awkward when they know you groupie
Stand not thinking, hoping that he chose me.
He say some simple shit that make blush,
End of the night, mascara runnin down your blush.
Cinderela slipper, he done caught you slippin
Sirock sippin, goose sippin, got you talkin different.
Cause beeing broke got you fuckin trippin
Yo, watch your feet girl, you fuckin trippin.
How you independent fountain blow,
Tryina kick back all them bands that you blow.
I guess livin ratchet got you blow,
Next morning, nigga lookin like “who is you?”
(Chorus)
You ain’t gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood
You ain’t tryina fuck with that dude.
I can tell you had enough of this stuff
Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition
Of beating that pussy up.
I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him
Baby I don’t give a fuck, oh whoa.
If you ain’t happy then, let it go around
Then come back again.
You ain’t tryina fuck with that dude.
I can tell you had enough of this stuff
Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition
Of beating that pussy up.
I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him
Baby I don’t give a fuck, oh whoa.
If you ain’t happy then, let it go around
Then come back again.
(Verse)
That awkward when they know you groupie
And you pull up to his lambo, in your dirty hoopty
And he fell like he could play you cause you worth little,
Cause your mind small, and your work little.
Life is like a prom night, it only happens once, right?
Better have the right dress, right pumpy
They say you was never raised right,
Can never get them grades right,
Creeping in that late nights from bloody day rape fights.
The lost girl, lost love, red dress, the devil in.
Fighting for your relevance, head butts, evelin
You wanna be a star too, bottles from the bar too
You want paparazzi popping at your car, too.
(Chorus)
You ain’t gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood
You ain’t tryina fuck with that dude.
I can tell you had enough of this stuff
Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition
Of beating that pussy up.
I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him
Baby I don’t give a fuck, oh whoa.
If you ain’t happy then, let it go around
Then come back again.
(Verse)
That awkward when they know you groupie
Stand not thinking, hoping that he chose me.
He say some simple shit that make blush,
End of the night, mascara runnin down your blush.
Cinderela slipper, he done caught you slippin
Sirock sippin, goose sippin, got you talkin different.
Cause beeing broke got you fuckin trippin
Yo, watch your feet girl, you fuckin trippin.
How you independent fountain blow,
Tryina kick back all them bands that you blow.
I guess livin ratchet got you blow,
Next morning, nigga lookin like “who is you?”
(Chorus)
You ain’t gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood
You ain’t tryina fuck with that dude.
I can tell you had enough of this stuff
Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition
Of beating that pussy up.
I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him
Baby I don’t give a fuck, oh whoa.
If you ain’t happy then, let it go around
Then come back again.
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