Taxi Girl
Where’s your Baba taxi girl,
does she move with mama’s twirl
who’s the Dadda, languid thighs
making money, old men’s sighs,
Waiting for your phone to say,
here’s a rich man on the way,
take his money, (always pays)
he’ll be happy few more days;
But listen not to false reward
his silver notes a burning sword,
tease his body fill your purse,
back to Baba, could be worse.
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