Tom: Bbm
Bbm7 Ebm7 F#7 F7
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(Verse 1)
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I'm getting tired of your shit You don't ever buy me nothing
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See every time you come around You gotta bring Jim James, Paul and Tyrone
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See, why can we be by ourselves sometimes?
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I've been having this on my mind for a long time
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I just want it to be you and me like it used to be, baby
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But you don't know how to act So matter a fact,
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I think you better call Tyrone (Call him)
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And tell him come home (Come on, Come on, Come on)
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Yeah you better call Tyrone (Call)
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Tell him I said come home.
(Verse 2)
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Now every time I ask you for a little cash
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You say "Naw," but turn right around and ask me for some ass
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Oh, woah, well, hold up, listen, partner I ain't no cheap thrill
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Cause like Miss Badu's I'm always comin' for real -you know the deal
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Every time we go somewhere I gotta reach down in my purse
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To pay your way And your homeboys way And sometimes your cousins way
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They don't ever have to pay Don't have no cars Hang around in bars -Try to hang around with stars
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Like Badu I'm gonna tell you truth oh
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You better call up Tyrone (Call him)
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And tell him come home (Come on, Come on, Come on)
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Yeah you better call up Tyrone (Call)
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But you can't use my phone.
(Verse 3) (with palm muting)
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So take my heels, don't pay my pills, I'm here to let you know the way I feel.
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Reeeaaaaaaalllllllll nah nah nah
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Wrong or right, you need to tell your boy to find another place
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to watch that god damn fight.
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So like my cool, don't sing a sound, I don't give a shit if you can't
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Get it, you can't get, you can't get it on nooooo
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So get up off your knees and dance boy, so I'm going to sing it to the preacher man boy
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I think you better callllllll him
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You better call up Tyrone (Call him)
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And tell him come home (Come on, Come on, Come on)
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Yeah you better call up Tyrone (Call)
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But you can't use my phone.
