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jean grae - lovesong lyrics

[intro (overlapped with bridge): jean grae]
ooh, that was wrong! oh man. you told me stuff, and we gots to find a song for them all. it’s appreciation though. yo, dee, to start, play the original so i can get in the mood to kick these verses. alright, oh, uh, yeah, yeah. i see you, love. i said, “all the time.” does it ever puzzle you? have you asked why? nah. i know i do. i do, it’s true. i ain’t pretending, man. aight, aight. let’s get into it, for real, for real. aight? one. drop it, drop it

[bridge 1 (overlapped with intro): sample from the stylistics – “stop, look, listen (to your heart)”]
you’re alone all the time
does it ever puzzle you?
have you asked why you seem
to fall in love? out again
do you ever really love?
or just pretend?
why fool yourself?
don’t be afraid
to help yourself
it’s never too late, too late to stop…

[bridge 2: sample from rodney cee on double trouble – “stoop rap” with scratches by da beatminerz] (x7)
here’s a little story that must be told

[verse 1: jean grae]
she grew up
believing in p-ssion and love, whose folks divorced and remarried
very naïve, seen life and commitments that
should have been dead and buried, highly sentimental, sensitive
gentle beyond the point she should be. what might be obvious
to most, she says they’re too bitter, can’t see
the world the way she does, clean lungs, undamaged liver, sees
thugs through her pink-tinted gl-sses. occasionally, weed
does make her giggle, listen to some music closer, dudes
approach her lightly, wanna be her lover, and she obliges
likes to cuddle under the covers by candlelit fires
oblivious to lying schemes to talk her out of clothes, says
she’s just in love with love, cuts her cl-sses, spends too much time
entrancing, romancing. things are changing quickly. she’s asking
“why aren’t you spending more time with me?” n-gga’s eyes are getting
shifty, coming over later smelling of p-ssy on his face
jeans and sweaters—something’s fishy. and it’s not what
he tells her, man, it’s what he don’t, and she don’t understand
and, for some years, she probably won’t. just wants an honest man
for goodness sake, they’re backstabbing and cutting her throat
restraining orders follow, but she still optimistic about it
like annie, thinking “tomorrow” maybe will be a better day
i let her pray on bended knees, ask him to send prince charming, please
she’s never cheated, treats her man well, cooks, cleans
dresses s-xy for him, halter tops and tight jeans, would break
the law for him, go through a couple of these relationships
still stays strong, she’s too young and dumb to call it quits
learns that she carrying twice, scared and afraid the first
time. the second, she don’t even cry. he makes her wipe away
his tears and it hurts. they always leave and turn crazy, so
she doesn’t flirt, spends time warning the babies
goes through a couple of these relationships and still stays strong
too young and dumb to call it quits. it’s still a love song

[verse 2: jean grae]
she’s got
a good man. she’s nineteen, he’s twenty-one and sweet and honest
promised to love her, talk of marriage. she would never wanna
be somebody’s baby’s mother, use rubbers occasionally
when she’s flowing, open off the affection and gifts and all
the good manners he’s showing. he’s trying to build a life for himself
studies late, computer sh-t, and she’s missing attention that
she’s not getting, s-x dwindles. crawling in the sheets, he say
he tired, and she say she feel neglect and defeat, just doesn’t
see his ambition, she wanna be the universe and hold
his center position, starts hanging ‘round the best friend more
crazy attraction, takes impulsive action, dropped the drawers
and falls in love, the world explodes when she confesses. “yeah, i did it
so?” they’re so tight, it’s like he moves when she stretches. over
the couple years, too many stresses, girls who wanna fight her
b-tches writing letters, friendships disappearing, plus
he rhymes, so it’s compet-tive pressure, miscarriage. they break up
fifty times a week and make up just as much. he f-cking
and i know, but pretending i’m out of touch. it’s getting
strained and gets physical, she cries until the river dries
and leaves her dead and cold, packs up her things and leaves behind. what i
had thought was gold was only gold-plated. thinking of all
the other ones i could have just left and up and dated
single after four years. starting over never easy, but it
takes some time to realize your own worth, come into
your own, play your mental rebirth. she starts penning some
better poems, straighten up her bank account, likes to take
herself out. i’m getting better at it. i’ve had
a few relationships, but still too young and dumb enough to call
it quits. it’s still a love song

[bridge 3: jean grae]
love
all i ever want is you
all i ever had
needed in my life was you
all that ever was, all i ever had

[verse 3: jean grae]
maybe it’s
easier to talk about this sh-t in third person, learning
better, looking for nub in all the wrong places like i’m
eddie murphy, curse me to repeat the same cycle i’m breaking
no longer think relations make a better woman, just
for life i’m pursuing, growing but hopelessly romantic still
tasted weather in the bitter climates, love the sunshine better
dreaming of dream proposals, decent moral values placing
higher on my chart, trying not to have a shallow heart
but battle scars are deep and reach into the depths of h-ll and back
try to give up the grudges. think it’s experience
and move from the clutches of sadness. it’s difficult
sometimes, i wish i wasn’t an adult. adolescent
primetime sitcom star, i’ve been too far
and too much, too hard for too long. it’s still a love song

- jean grae lyrics

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