[Intro]
Hey, this is radio station WSKEE
We're taking calls on the wish line
Making your wacky wishes come true...
Hello?
[Chorus]
I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller
I wish I had a girl who looked good, I would call her
I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat
And a six-four Impala
[Verse 1]
I wish I was like six-foot-nine
So I can get with Leoshi
'Cause she don't know me
But, yo, she's really fine
You know I see her all the time
Everywhere I go
And even in my dreams
I can scheme of ways to make her mine
'Cause I know she's livin' phat
Her boyfriend's tall and he plays ball,
So how am I gonna compete with that?
'Cause when it comes to playing basketball
I'm always last to be picked
And in some cases never picked at all
So I just lean up on the wall
Or sit up in the bleachers with the rest of the girls
Who came to watch their man ball
Dag, y'all! I never understood, black
Why the jocks get the fly girls
And me, I get the hood rats
I tell 'em, "Scat, skittle, sca-bobble"
Got hit with a bottle
And put in a hospital for talkin' that mess
I confess it's a shame
When you livin' in a city that's the size of a box
And nobody knows yo' name
Glad I came, to my senses
Like quick-quick, got sick-sick to my stomach
Overcometh by thoughts
Of me and her together, right?
So when I asked her out, she said I wasn't her type
Hey, this is radio station WSKEE
We're taking calls on the wish line
Making your wacky wishes come true...
Hello?
[Chorus]
I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller
I wish I had a girl who looked good, I would call her
I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat
And a six-four Impala
[Verse 1]
I wish I was like six-foot-nine
So I can get with Leoshi
'Cause she don't know me
But, yo, she's really fine
You know I see her all the time
Everywhere I go
And even in my dreams
I can scheme of ways to make her mine
'Cause I know she's livin' phat
Her boyfriend's tall and he plays ball,
So how am I gonna compete with that?
'Cause when it comes to playing basketball
I'm always last to be picked
And in some cases never picked at all
So I just lean up on the wall
Or sit up in the bleachers with the rest of the girls
Who came to watch their man ball
Dag, y'all! I never understood, black
Why the jocks get the fly girls
And me, I get the hood rats
I tell 'em, "Scat, skittle, sca-bobble"
Got hit with a bottle
And put in a hospital for talkin' that mess
I confess it's a shame
When you livin' in a city that's the size of a box
And nobody knows yo' name
Glad I came, to my senses
Like quick-quick, got sick-sick to my stomach
Overcometh by thoughts
Of me and her together, right?
So when I asked her out, she said I wasn't her type
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