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Signs - Ron Pope



     
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Signs Lyrics


I'm not sure what I see, Cupid don't fuck with me
Are you telling me this is a sign?
She's looking in my eyes, noticing no other guys
Are you telling me this is a sign?
Don't think about it, boy leave her alone
Nigga you ain't no G
She likes my tone, my cologne and the way I roll
You ain't no G
It's legit, you know it's a hit
When The Neptunes and the Doggy Dogg fin to spit
You know he's in tune with the season
Come here baby, tell me why you leaving?
Tell me if it's weed that you need
If you wanna breathe, I got the best weed minus seeds
Ain't nobody tripping VIP they can't get in
If something go wrong then you know we get to Cripping
I'm not sure what I see, Cupid don't fuck with me
Are you telling me this is a sign?

She's looking in my eyes, now I see no other guys
Are you telling me this is a sign?
Don't think about it, boy leave her alone
Nigga you ain't no G
She likes my tone, my cologne and the way I roll
You ain't no G
Now you stepping with a G, from Los Angeles
Where the helicopters got cameras
Just to get a glimpse of our Chucks
And our Khakis and our bouncer cars
You're with you friend right?
(Yeah)
She ain't trying to bring over no men right?
(No)
Shit, she ain't gotta be in the distance
She can get high all in an instant
I'm not sure what I see, Cupid don't fuck with me
Are you telling me this is a sign?
She's looking in my eyes, noticing no other guys
Are you telling me this is a sign?
Don't think about it, boy leave her alone
Nigga you ain't no G
She likes my tone, my cologne and the way I roll
You ain't no G
Mami, mamasita, have you ever, flown on G5's
From London to Ibiza, you gotta have Cape Town
You'll have Sunday's with chiquitas
You'll see Venus and Serena, in the Wimbledon Arena
And I can take you
(Uncle Charlie, preach)
Nigga don't be young and foolish
You don't know what you're doing
You don't know what you've lost until she's gone
And her pretty face, drove you wild
But you ain't got that Snoop Doggy Dogg style
I'm not sure what I see, Cupid don't fuck wit me
Are you telling me this is a sign?
She's looking in my eyes, noticing no other guys
Are you telling me this is a sign?
Don't think about it, boy leave her alone
Nigga you ain't no G
She likes my tone, my cologne and the way I roll
You ain't no G, you ain't no G

Enjoy the lyrics !!!
Where should I start…these stories, my music, it comes from all the places I’ve been, the people I’ve been blessed to play music along side, the way it feels to play my guitar until it bleeds or to bang on that old piano in my living room until my shoulders ache and my fingers won’t move anymore. From Georgia to New York, New York to the road; Charleston and Memphis, Vermont to Chicago. Turned 21, then 22…released my first record with The District…Maine and Boston and who knows where else…made love in the grass and meant it…walked down Wilshire, blinking in the Los Angeles sun… got lost in Delaware scrambling to get home to my family after too much time…swam in the ocean with the boys, thanking God for purple and orange Florida sunrises. Soaked up New Orleans…tried to become Levon Helm; realized I wasn’t much of a drummer……turned 23. Wrote A Drop In The Ocean with Zach Berkman and then put it away for six months because I didn’t get it…fell in love…drank whiskey from the bottle and howled at the moon…released Last Call…played the blues back-to-back with Buz in Charlotte and just about everywhere else along that godforsaken highway…the van broke down…we fixed it…the van broke down again. Got lost heading to South Carolina and ended up in Alabama…fell out of love and hit my head on the way towards the bottom…turned 24…made a Christmas album, because, damn it, I like Christmas albums. Played big rooms…played small rooms …listened to Van Morrison and cried…listened to trains scream somewhere off in the distance on ink-black sleepless nights… I traced the outline of a woman’s face on a piece of paper; someone I loved and didn’t want to forget once we’d put the whole thing to bed. The picture didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped, so I took my ink-stained fingers and spelled her name out in big, smeared letters on my arm. I guess that’s all I’ve ever really had…my words. This music is the story of where I’ve been, who I am, and where I’m going…these songs are my life.

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Ron Pope