NO MORE DATİNG DJ'S
NİCK HOLDER
No more dating Djs
No more dating DJs, MCs, producers hip hop critics, radio hosts etcetera
Wanted: a girl to date a dj
Must have strong arms for heavy lifting
Includes crates and my ego
Looks not important to me
You will never look as good as the girls on my
Bootlegs white labels and CD covers
Please try not to look uglier than any of my dj buddy’s girlfriends
I really hate that
Don’t touch my equipment
I like music, long walks on any street that sells used records
Music, being a hater
Music, And I do love music
Must be able to watch several hours of DMC world championship video footage
P.S. if you’ve never heard of DJ rectangle, please do not apply
I’m done with dating rappers, MCs DJs,
I’m looking for a real nice Rogers cable guy who thinks that technique is a way to make love to me
I was in love with your potential
I thought your hands were speaking to me
Remember when we met and you were on that jungle brothers back to Africa trip
You got me to throw away my rope chain
I even took the chemicals out my hair
You said you were my man
That we would be a strong black union for change
But your momma’s basement was too small to house the revolution
Grow the fuck up man
Why not move out and get a job
You said you were about to make some cheddar offa all this rappin and producin’
Wait till you play me the new shit
You said the sexiest thing about me besides my fat ass
Was the way I made you think
And Me and my fat ass was tickled pink
But now it seems like my chords are the only things you tickle
I’m tired of eating invisible scratch pickles
I stopped buying your mix tapes the day you said girls can’t dj cause their inner ear is smaller and it throws of the mixes
What? The guest list
After three years I’m more than just a guest
But I guess you just say no
I stopped analysin’ your lyrics when you stopped listenin’ to my radio show
And don’t ever get a twist
I’m telling you the worst groupies have it
Every guy I know can tell a story about a hoe and some rap star
I ain’t hatin’ it’s the truth dog I witnessed it I swear
Now you’re a man, at least for the groupie she’s about to get sex
You already passed your tape to the rapper, he’s about to be the face now
Why are you still there?
And these groupie hoes with their five minute hugs
I don’t wash no face
But these girls take pleasure in provoking me
And I can’t say shit ‘cause I got to retaliate in silence
‘Cause the lanyard from your backstage pass is choking me
And no I don’t want to hang out with the other DJ girlfriends
They’re adapters...
No more dating DJs, MCs, producers hip hop critics, radio hosts etcetera
Wanted: a girl to date a dj
Must have strong arms for heavy lifting
Includes crates and my ego
Looks not important to me
You will never look as good as the girls on my
Bootlegs white labels and CD covers
Please try not to look uglier than any of my dj buddy’s girlfriends
I really hate that
Don’t touch my equipment
I like music, long walks on any street that sells used records
Music, being a hater
Music, And I do love music
Must be able to watch several hours of DMC world championship video footage
P.S. if you’ve never heard of DJ rectangle, please do not apply
I’m done with dating rappers, MCs DJs,
I’m looking for a real nice Rogers cable guy who thinks that technique is a way to make love to me
I was in love with your potential
I thought your hands were speaking to me
Remember when we met and you were on that jungle brothers back to Africa trip
You got me to throw away my rope chain
I even took the chemicals out my hair
You said you were my man
That we would be a strong black union for change
But your momma’s basement was too small to house the revolution
Grow the fuck up man
Why not move out and get a job
You said you were about to make some cheddar offa all this rappin and producin’
Wait till you play me the new shit
You said the sexiest thing about me besides my fat ass
Was the way I made you think
And Me and my fat ass was tickled pink
But now it seems like my chords are the only things you tickle
I’m tired of eating invisible scratch pickles
I stopped buying your mix tapes the day you said girls can’t dj cause their inner ear is smaller and it throws of the mixes
What? The guest list
After three years I’m more than just a guest
But I guess you just say no
I stopped analysin’ your lyrics when you stopped listenin’ to my radio show
And don’t ever get a twist
I’m telling you the worst groupies have it
Every guy I know can tell a story about a hoe and some rap star
I ain’t hatin’ it’s the truth dog I witnessed it I swear
Now you’re a man, at least for the groupie she’s about to get sex
You already passed your tape to the rapper, he’s about to be the face now
Why are you still there?
And these groupie hoes with their five minute hugs
I don’t wash no face
But these girls take pleasure in provoking me
And I can’t say shit ‘cause I got to retaliate in silence
‘Cause the lanyard from your backstage pass is choking me
And no I don’t want to hang out with the other DJ girlfriends
They’re adapters...
