But I do know one thing though Bitches, they come, they go Saturday through Sunday, Monday ( Yeah-yeah) Monday through Sunday, yo Maybe I'll love you one day Maybe we'll someday grow 'Til then just sit your drunk ass on that fuckin' runway, ho ‘Cause I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman Can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman Can't be your Superman, your Superman, your Superman Don't get me wrong, I love these hoes It's no secret, everybody knows Yeah, we fucked-bitch, so what? That's about as far as your buddy goes We'll be friends, I'll call you again I'll chase you around every bar you attend Never know what kinda car I'll be in We'll see how much you'll be partyin' then You don't want that, neither do I I don't wanna flip when I see you with guys Too much pride, between you and I Not a jealous man, but females lie But I guess that's just what sluts do How could it ever be just us two? I'd never love you enough to trust you We just met and I just fucked you