"Huh. Ho. Honey got me hooked on you..."
Again, I ain't got to lie to kick it: Me and Mariah, go back like babies and pacifiers.
[TRUE STORY: 15, 30 minutes into arriving at my girl T-Money's place to pregame and hit "da clubs" (a.k.a. so not happening, yet "happening" Blow Up L.A. party), T turns around and asks me to make myself comfortable. Why? Cause I'm busy clutching a wine glass, watching the screen, and streaming music through my right ear with an iPod headphone. I just had to keep listening to the album I was bumping upon my arrival to her door. T-Money: [Half-jokingly] "Are you listening to Mariah Carey?" Yes, yes I was.]
Where was I?
Oh yes...
So yeah, I love Mariah Carey as much as the next lamb, and I respect that she's all about showing off her new "Touch My Body" look, but I don't know. I mean, I know it's the June issue and summer starts on June 20th and all, but all I see is Shape Magazine, and the Cowardly Lion in the face. Again, not a diss song, just keeping it real.
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