(Talking on the phone)
They make me sick.
I know, I feel you, that's why we gotta stick together.
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I know it!
You make me sick,
I want you and I'm hating it,
Got me lit like a candlestick,
Get too hot when you touch the tip,
I'm feelin it, I gotta get a grip in this,
Drizing me crazy, baby don't you quit,
Can't get enough of it,
You got me goin again,
Baby you got me goin again,
You make me sick!
We was on our way home on the freeway,
In the six double O bumpin' Isley,
He was gettin kinda close, kinda touchy,
Guess he had a little too much Hennesy,
He told me that he wanna go home,
With me up on the hill to my condo,
Told me he would keep it all on the low-low,
But I told him 'oh, I don't really know though'
He got close up to me,
He started, getting deep,
He had me in a zone,
Where he started to show me things
I've never saw before,
Yeah he was smooth, but I knew he was game,
Helluva cool, but he meant it the same,
The way he licked his lips and touched my hips I
Knew that he was sick.
So hot in my six now,
Sot hot, had to roll all the windows down,
Isley got me thinkin bout them sheets now,
Wonderin should I really take it there now?
He told me, that he'd make it worth it,
But thinkin 'how many times have I heard this?'
Got him feelin but I'm not even nervous,
All his slick ass lines were kinda workin
I felt my knees get weak,
But he was, callin me,
Just couldn't take the heat,
Anyway it was two or three,
I had to get out the streets,
Yeah he was cool, but I knew he was game,
He was too smooth to be screamin my name,
And even though we made the, best of it,
I still told him this...
Hmmmmm, hmmmmmm, hmmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmmmm, mmmmmmmmmmm, yeah
I want you and I hate it,
Hot when you touch the tip,
I 'm feelin it,
I gotta get a grip in this,
Drivin me crazy baby don't you quit,
Can't no, no, no, no no
Oh you make me sick,
I want you when (you when I'm hating it)