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Artist: Phonte f/ Eric Roberson
Album:  Charity Starts at Home
Song:   Who Loves You More
Typed by:

[Intro: Phonte]
Yo, yo
One more time around, hey!
Thank y'all for listening, once again, huh
I'm a work in progress man, I'm a work in progress I swear, I'm tryna get better
I never know when the words is gon' come but they always show up
and I'm thankful, yessir

She ran out the house like, fuck it I'm leaving
He ran out after her like, fuck is the meaning?
Went through his phone and found text-es from all his exes
Threw it at him like, fuck was you thinking?
Way down in his stomach he getting that sinking
feeling he felt twenty years before when his pops sat him down
and told him, him and his mom was divorcing
Now he doing the same, running through these hoes with no proper decorum
Not a pretty picture, unsettled mise-
-ry, he would say his pop was a dog
Now ain't that the pot calling the kettle nigga
Every player dreams of leaving the game, straight walking out
The allure of new pussy is cool
but when it's over, what the fuck you got to talk about?
Such an empty feeling, you win or you lose
Wifey told him, it's them or me and baby you better choose, hey!

[Chorus: Eric Roberson] + (Phonte)
I saw the clouds today and thought that it was time to say goodbye
(Who loves you more?) *4X*
Every little thing about you babe
I tried to change my ways and pray that maybe I could save my life
(Who loves you more?) *4X*
Every little thing about you babe

My cousin hit me up and said he had to post bail again
cause my brother back in jail again
Back in that slave ship cause he tried to sell again
And all that's going through my mind is, how the fuck am I failing him?
These youngins want all of the spoils, but none of the toils
Got me climbing walls, too good to press olives
but I'll be the first squeaky wheel asking for oil
I've been at it for ten years, what the fuck is you on?
Had me frustrated like, what the fuck do you want?
He come to me for answers but I don't know what to tell him
Part bad parenting, part youthful rebellion
He wanna buy a dream, but I don't know what to sell him, shit
They say the streets turn niggas into sinners
But them jail cells be turning niggas into dinner
So they sing in the summer, be home by the winter
Interrogation room be turning niggas into tenors
And he's no singer, but put him on the block he got that perfect +pitch+
I just want him to understand that you work for this
You can win or you lose
But it's either me or the streets, and brother you gotta choose, love


[Phonte] + (Eric Roberson)
We'll back up off for a little bit
(Every little thing about you babe)
New Tigallo, new Tigallo, new Tigallo, yo

Some get hand-picked, others get picked on
Some get a hand up, others get this song
I came from the bottom where the guns got withdrawn
All lows, no highs man/Heisman, get a stiff arm
See me doing records so they think it makes a lot
But really I'm just tryna make salat, like I was raised Islam
Praying that the ends justify the means
cause most of my heroes had fucked up lives
Coked up kids and three or four wives, hoes in every city
Enough side bitches for three or four tribes
From Marvin to Basquiat, it comes with a caveat
and that's the gospel like three or four choirs
Got a room with a microphone and all this time
I just sat by the window and looked inside
Didn't like what I found, but you win or you lose
Make a living or have a life, guess that I gotta choose, one


[Outro: Phonte]
Yo, yo
Aight, real quick, real quick, real quick, we gon' take it out
Real quick, yo, hey
I got a room and a microphone
and a family I ain't seen in months
And I played this record a million times
just hoping you would play it once, ha
Break bread with you fellow man
Show love, but look out for your heart
And always take care of home
because home is where charity starts
Home is where charity starts
Is where charity starts
{*sigh*} Thank God