Brianna Perry

Mascara Tears (Feat. T Pain)

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And when I think about all the things
I gotta go trough out here as a woman
In this man's world
That's what I be thinking 'bout
Hey

You ain't gotta say a word
Baby I can read your mood
You ain't tryina fuck with that dude
I can tell you had enough of this stuff
Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition

Oh beating that pussy up
I tell you what, let me talk to him
Put a spot to him
Baby I don't give a fuck, oh whoa
If you ain't happy then, let it go around
Then come back again

That awkward when they know you groupie
And you pull up to his lambo, in your dirty hoopty
And he fell like he could play you cause you worth little
'Cause your mimd small and your work little

Life is like a prom night, it only happens once, right?
Better have the right dress, right pumpy
They say you was never raised right
Can never get them grades right

Creeping in that late nights from bloody day rape fights
The lost girl, lost love, red dress, the devil in
Fighting for your relevance, head butts, evelin
You wanna be a star too, bottles from from the bar too
You want paparazzi popping at your car, too

You ain't gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood
You ain't tryina fuck with that dude
I can tell you had enough, of this stuff
Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition

Of beating that pussy up
I tell you what, let me talk to him, put a spot to him
Baby I don't give a fuck, oh whoa
If you ain't happy then, let it go around
Then come back again

That awkward when they know you groupie
Steady thinking, hoping that he chose me
He say some people shit that make blush
And at night, mascara runnin' down your blush
Cinderela slipper, he done caught you slippin
Sirock sippin, goose sipin, got you takin' different

'Cause beeing broke got you fuckin trippin
Yo, watch your feet girl, you fuckin trippin
How you independent fountain blow
Tryina kick back all them bands that you blow
I guess livin ratchet got you blow
Next morning, nigga lookin' like who is you?

You ain't gotta say a word, baby I can read your mood
You ain't tryina fuck with that dude
I can tell you had enough of this stuff
Shawty believe, he got the wrong definition
Of beating that pussy up

I tell you what, let me talk to him
Put a spot to him
Baby I don't give a fuck, oh whoa
If you ain't happy then, let it go around
Then come back again

I see your tears mama, dry your tears
It ain't worth it
She shed so many tears

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