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time machine (los angeles & rhode island hip hop group) - personal ads lyrics

time machine ft. romen rok – “personal ads”
[emcee(s): romen rok, jaysonic, and comel 15]
[producer(s): mekalek]

[intro: phone message skit]
yolanda: h-llo? oh, yeah, hi. this yolanda. i’m just calling to let you know that your thirst is over ‘cause, boo, i’ma rock your world. so if you look good and your game tight to me, then hit me up. holler back
voice mail system: end of message

[verse 1: romen rok]
let me
see, let me see. where should i start about me? (hmm)
ok. slim white male, eyes blue-green
dark-brown hair, cuticles short, clipped, and clean
mentality humble-slash-full-steam. got a
pocket-full of dreams and a pimp in my step. i be
playing hard to get, very affectionate rep
on love i overslept. i’m sick—i need a fix or a
pretty kitty cat to purr up in my mitts
athletic, fit with the apple-b-m hips
who likes to cuddle-nap, be cozy and nibble-kiss
a homebody baby, swooshie, sweatpant lady
could cook a tasty, red sauce, marinara gravy
lower her, kiss, and call her “bella”
independent chick works hard for the cheddar
but i can’t scope her—she must be out of my view. now i’m
playing love sherlock, searching for clues
maybe i’m in love with a woman who doesn’t exist
or maybe i’m not ready to sail relationships
whatever though. the only that i’ll get mad is if
a busted chick responds to my personal ad

[hook: jaysonic] (x2)
ladies, what you looking for?
(i’m looking for a mr. right)
fellas, what you looking for?
(a chick to get with tonight)

[verse 2: jaysonic]
ayyo
i like making beats, making love, and making dinner. leave a
message in my mailbox if you a winner. my grandma
thought i was a saint. my ex knows that i’m a sinner
now i’m a little older and in touch with my inner, need a
fly female—age nineteen to twenty-six. i
suppose i’ll make exceptions if you’re physically fit. checking
for a girl with a firm reality grip, not
really on some twisted mentality sh-t. easy-
-going, wears sweatpants when it’s snowing, always
feels a dope beat, nods her head when i’m flowing. she
can cook, knows that haste makes waste
so we could do it slow ‘cause this isn’t no race. take
your time, solicit the sunday flea market
go ahead, girl. you rolled it. spark it
she’ll drive if i get a little too live, changes
up her hairstyle from pigtails to beehive. as for
me, i’m twenty-three, professional emcee, cancer
with all the answers and a bachelor’s degree. i’d tell you
more about myself, but if you really want to see what i’m
like, then come and spend some time with me, baby

[hook: jaysonic] (x2)
ladies, what you looking for?
(i’m looking for a mr. right)
fellas, what you looking for?
(a chick to get with tonight)

[verse 3: comel 15]
door knocks. open it up. in come you, date
three. enjoyed our time on our first too. i was
not a chanticleer but i felt comfortable, and what-
-ever. well, y’all, let’s stay, not rush through. did you find
me or i find you? in row six, column two. “man seek-
-ing woman with respectable attributes.” the
official anniversary would be the first of no-
-vember. we had dinner, i let you order first. determined
to split the tab—that’s when i knew i had something
special with a figure shaped like an hourgl-ss
goodie, goodie personality, but i know you bad. you so
fly, when you smile, you make the next man glad. thanks for
arriving on time. i packed our grub bag
[?] wine, cheese, crackers, and some lyrics i had. ain’t hard to
please, plus you low-maintenance. let’s jet
wait, i almost forgot those blankets. i’ll pull
this off with a dollar-twenty and twenty words. the next
week, on the phone with your sweet voice, i heard. “how long
can this really last? could this go from good to bad?” i don’t
know—that’s why i keep a copy of my personal ad

[outro: phone message skit]
sugar: hey, my name is sugar. they call me that ‘cause i’m naturally sweet. i’m looking for somebody to be the icing on my cupcake, so call me back ‘cause i’m guaranteed to give you a cavity
nadia: oye, this is nadia from the bronx. i’m calling ‘cause i’m looking for a man with a nice, long platano. if you’re interested in a girl with double-d b–bies and a rice-and-bean booty, call me back, yah?
[?]: so if you like long walks in the prison yard, chili dogs, and beef jerky, call me

- time machine los angeles rhode island hip hop group lyrics

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