I wanted to blog about how love is like basketball, but I couldn’t write anything cohesive. All I could do was fucking rhyme, it was driving me crazy! Anyway, hope you’re in the mood for some Dr. Suess lol.
When the playoffs end, the summer begins The championships start, the ladies show more skin
You gather your team, and hit up the spot Take a shot, then look at the clock
It’s 11:47, when you see a group of chicks So you get off the bench, and give your boy the assist
“Sorry I got a man … ,” (damn, that’s no fun) “But my girl don’t” (and she’s cuter), aw shit son – AND ONE
So you spit your best game, before it’s time to go home You ask for her name, deliver like Malone
And for the next few months, you stop dealin with tricks ‘Cuz you’ve found your All-Star, Your #1 draft pick
You swear you’re done, and the game’s lost its thrill You swear she’s the one, she’s Tamia you’re Grant Hill
Yet you keep playin the court, you just can’t give it up You got a good girl, but you love women too much
So you keep your side dish, and make her your main, Til’ one day you come home, and things aren’t the same
Just a note on the table, of what you knew from the start “You can play your games, but you can’t play with hearts”
So for months you call, and send flowers to work Used to be her MVP, now you’re just a jerk
You foul’d your last foul, and deserved what you got Went out of bounds, now you’re alone and she’s not
Humiliated and ashamed, “like Chris Webber in sudden death you call for timeouts, when there’s no timeouts left”
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