After partyEleven o'clock, who's ringin' my phone? I'm just cool, laid back like Nina Simone.
I don’t recognise the number though, so I let the number go, then I text the number - yo.
Who’s this? What’s happenin'? Who’s hollerin'? While I’m stretched back, mag sittin'.
That's weird, so somethin’s going on, then I think we should reach 'coz somethin’s going on
I can smell a party ten miles away, blindfold, locate, when the ??? say,
So you know I gotta reach, get just white kicks, do irregular peach.
And that’s fresh fresh fresh, I’m ready for to stick in this, yes yes yes.
I jump up, move straight to my car, start drivin', text back - yo tell me where you are.