Spoken Word Artist

Can’t believe my baby left me for a cat with incense and beeswax
A spoken word artist
Damn

[Verse 1]
Could it have been the dreads?
Neatly twisted as it hung from his head
Breezed and [?] the way it swung as he said those clever similes without breaking a sweat
I’m however drenched, heavily perspiring
Seeing her eyeing him and admiring
I felt like a damn fool in that cafe
I swear I should have took her to the movies on that day
What was I thinking? She ain’t evеn like spoken word
I brought it up once, thе woman was so perturbed
She said those on that neo-soul disturbed
Eating all that tofu and smoking herb
Then all of a sudden she got so concerned with the poet’s words showing up in the open shirt
Sometimes I feel like I’m over her
But I go berserk every time I hear spoken word

[Chorus]
Spoken word artist
Got my baby
And she’s not coming back
No, she not, you know why? ‘cause she left me for a
Spoken word artist
And that’s messed up ‘cause I know that
She’s not coming back
She ain’t coming back
My baby left me for a

[Verse 2]
Damn metaphors
I knew exactly what he was tryna get across
I saw goosebumps on her arm as she listened
Screamed “keep on” and he listened
On with the rhythm, [?] and pauses
Jesus, it’s awkward, it feels like a scene in a porn flick
‘cause there’s a guy in the back with a sax
His touch is seductive, his hat to the back
Shirt matching his slacks
Cat was just phat
All these candles, I feel like I’m back in the sack
Anyway, back to this cat that’s tryna get his mack on
He had on a turtleneck, a back jawn
His pants torn, my bad, it was denim
Whatever shoes he had, it went well with him
‘cause my girl told me this on the ride back home
And how much she admired that poem
Now she’s gone ‘cause

[Chorus]
Spoken word artist
Will steal your girl if you let him and now
She’s not coming back
I know she ain’t coming back, she left me for a
Spoken word artist
I really can’t get over it ‘cause I know
That she’s not coming back
She ain’t coming back
My baby left me for a

[Verse 3]
The moral of the story is
He had no morals with his corny twist and his punchlines
He just mad that he unsigned and he’s confined to a small club nobody will come find
Selling poems for a dollar a page
Are you a scholar or sage on a bottle of haze?
Nah, O
Alright, yo, I’m not gonna hate
But if I see him on the streets, I’m not gonna say

[Chorus]
Lost out to a
Spoken word artist
I don’t understand it but I know
That she’s not coming back
Pretty much is gone, she’s gone
Spoken word artist
Came and took my woman
And she’s not coming back
I know the deal
My baby left me for a

Now let him tell it, his words were like the breeze
Because he had read a few books on his heritage
Now all of a sudden, he wants the respect of a lyricist
Are you hearing this?
Man, shut up