welcome

Shopping for labels, shopping for love
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of
Shopping for labels, shopping for love
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of

I already know what my addiction is
I be looking for labels, I ain’t looking for love
I shop for purses while I walk out the door
Don’t cry, buy a bag and then get over it
And, I’m not concerned with all the politics
It’s a lot of men I know I could find another one.

What I know is that I’m always happy
When I walk out the store, store
I’m guessing Supercalifragi-sexy,
Nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him,
Tryna to walk a mile in my kicks

Love’s like a runway but which one do I love more
No emotional baggage, just big bags filled with Dior
Love’s like a runway, so what’s all the fussing for
Let’s stop chasing them boys and shop some more

I know I might come off as negative
I be looking for labels,
I ain’t looking for love
Relationships are often so hard to tame
A Prada dress has never broken my heart before

And, ballin’s something that I’m fed up with
I’mma do the damn thing, watch me do the damn thing
Cause I know that my credit card
Will help me put out the flames
I’m guessing Supercalifragi-sexy,
Nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him,
Tryna to walk a mile in my kicks

Gucci, Fendi, Prada purses,
Purchasing them finer things
Men they come a dime a dozen,
Just give me them diamond rings
I’m into a lot of bling,
Cadallic, Chanel and Coach
Fellas boast but they can’t really
Handle my female approach
Buying things is hard to say
Rocking Christian Audigier, Manolo,
Polo, taking photos in my Cartier
So we can’t go all the way,
I know you might hate it but
I’mma shop for labels while them ladies lay and wait for love



Labels or Love, Fergie





the greatest thing you'll ever learn,
is to love and be loved.


Yes Bitch, it's your new name,

Thursday, March 06, 2008 ( 12:44 AM )



B.i.t.c.h. spells BITCH!


I'm a possessive freak, yes I am, and if I scream when people lay a finger on my stack of A4 paper, much less you.

You talk about how much pain you've been through.

WELL, SUCK IT UP.
life, reality, is as it is.
try throwing 2 years of your life into garbage and see if the pain might be different.
(p.s. answer is yes.)

maybe i speak too soon, maybe i flared, flamed for no reason.

this is my problem, i keep going back, going back, analyzing, over analyzing, having more coffee.
look at the yellow pages and feel like looking at anger management classes, then flip to the wedding planning section, and then feel like smashing the yellow pages into an imaginary venial wall, and then smile, and then go back, go back, and analyze, and...


BUT THIS IS WHAT YOU FUCKING GET FOR STEPPING ON MY FUCKING TERRITORY.
You don't play with feelings, especially mine, and people I care about, and get away with it.





:)