From a far you do more than ice grill
A hot chick, hood average chick.
The navel to her thighs you imagine,
What she feels like.
She gets close and you are checking out
Only enough for her not to see.
Temptation, the songs you sing
About beating it from the back.
She does no more but imagine that.
No more but a picture is obtained but you
Will never forget her grace.
You defiantly checked her out
When she walked away.
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