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Deante’ Hitchcock
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Hol' Up Late nights on that road All them late nights on that road All them new faces, I seen All them old faces I know All them nights stuck in my head All them moments trapped in my flows All them paragraphs in my inbox and them missed calls on my phone Got you trippin' off where I been Got me wondering when you home Got you telling all of your friends f*ck that bullshit, we grown I ain't here to make no new friends But I can't do this shit on my own (Own, own, own) Yeah then she bring up my old chick My old ways, my old grips My old hoes, my old bitch Like damn, why you always stressin' old shit So we fight, we fuss We f*ck, make up She good, so I'm great But pretty soon we'll be back on the same ol' shit like Round and round, we go Round and round, we go Round and round and round and round And round and round we go (Hol' up) Round and round, we go Round and round, we go Round and round and round and round And round and round we go, oh [Post-Chorus] Round and round we go, oh Round and round we go, oh Round and round we go, oh Round and round we go, oh Baby girl, let's talk it out I can't' talk it out on my own If you feeling somethin' just say somethin' I know a lot of shit on your dome Yeah I f*cked up, but I'm man enough to at least admit when I'm wrong So baby girl when you wrong Don't have your friends calling my phone She like "Here you go, with that bullshit putting everything on me You've been f*ckin' up, for a long time, lotta problems that you can't see" Nah, I ain't realize, how f*cking lonely this music thing was gon' be So it's (Round and round we go, round and round we go, oh) Never had a problem, that I couldn't solve before It's the first time, it's the first time, it's the first time I swear shit was all good just a week ago Couldn't have came at the worst time At a work time, aye Look, stress been weighing down on me Niggas tryna' clown on me And I ain't even creepin' shawty Thought that you was down for me She like "Nigga yeah right What you tryna' sound funny? No I know what them hoes said boy 'Stupid written on my forehead' Think I don't hear what them song say" And I had run a game, got us all playing Tryna' talk to her, but instead of listening to me She hear what them broads saying So we fight, we fuss We f*ck, we stuck She need love, I want trust But pretty soon we'll be back on the same ol' shit like Round and round (We go) (Round and round we go, oh) Round and round (We go) And pretty soon we'll be back on the same ol' shit like Round and round (We go) (Round and round we go) But pretty soon we'll be back on the same ol' shit like Round and round we go Round and round, we go Round and round, we go Round and round and round and round And round and round we go (Hol' up) Round and round, we go Round and round, we go Round and round and round and round And round and round we go, oh
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