Lyrics:

I'm getting tired of your shit, you don't ever buy me a thing

See every time you come around, you gotta bring Jim, James, Paul, and Tyrone

See, why can't we be by ourselves sometimes?
I've been having this on my mind for a long time
I just want it to be you and me like it used to be, baby
But you don't know how to act.
As a matter fact, I think you better call Tyrone

Tell him come on, help you get your shit
Yea you better call Tyrone
But you can't use my phone

So every time we go somewhere, I gotta reach down in my purse
To pay your way and your homeboy's way, and sometimes your cousin's way
They don't ever have to pay
Don't have no cars, hang around in bars
Try to hang around with stars like Badu
I will tell you the truth
You better show them proof
Call Tyrone
Tell him come on, help you get your shit.
Oh, call Tyrone
But you can't use my phone.