Every second, every minute
Man I swear that she can get it
Say if you a bad bitch put your hands up high
Hands up high, hands up high
Tell 'em dim the lights down right now, put me in the mood
I'm talking 'bout dark room, perfume, go, go

I recognize your fragrance, hold up, you ain't never gotta say shit, uh
And I know your taste is, a little bit hmm, high maintenance, uh
Everybody else basic, you live life on an everyday basis
With poetic justice, poetic justice
If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?
I mean I write poems in these songs dedicated to you when
You're in the mood for empathy, there's blood in my pen
Better yet, where your friends and 'em? I really wanna know you all
I really wanna show you off, fuck that
Pour up plenty of champagne, cold nights when you curse this name
You called up your girlfriends and y'all curled in that little bitty Range
I heard that she wanna go and party, she wanna go and party
Nigga don't approach her with that Atari
Nigga, that ain't good game, homie, sorry
They say conversation rule a nation, I can tell
But I could never right my wrongs 'less I write it down for real, PS

You can get it, you can get it
You can get it, you can get it
And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
Poetic justice, put it in a song, alright

You can get it, you can get it
You can get it, you can get it
And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
Poetic justice, put it in a song, alright

Drake:
I really hope you play this, 'cause old girl you test my patience
With all these seductive photographs and all these one off vacations
You've been taking clearly a lot for me to take in, it don't make sense
Young East African girl, you too busy fucking with your other man
I was tryna put you on game, put you on a plane
Take you and your mama to the motherland, I could do it
Maybe one day when you figure out you're gonna need someone
When you figure out it's all right here in the city and you don't run from where we come from
That sound like poetic justice, poetic justice
You were so new to this life but goddamn you got adjusted
I mean I write poems in these songs, dedicated to the fun sex
Your natural hair and your soft skin, and your big ass in that sundress, ooh
Good God, what you doing that walk for?
When I see that thing move, I just wish we would fight less and we would talk more
And they say communication save relations, I can tell
But I can never right my wrongs unless I write 'em down for real, PS

Kendrick Lamar:
You can get it, you can get it
You can get it, you can get it
And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
Poetic justice, put it in a song, alright

You can get it, you can get it
You can get it, you can get it
And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
Poetic justice, put it in a song, alright

Every time I write these words, they become a taboo
Making sure my punctuation curve, every letter here's true
Living my life in the margin and that metaphor was proof
I'm talking poetic justice, poetic justice
If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?
I mean you need to hear this, love is not just a verb
It's you looking in the mirror, love is not just a verb
It's you looking for it, maybe, call me crazy, we can both be insane
A fatal attraction is common and what we have common is pain
I mean you need to hear this, love is not just a verb
And I can see power steering, sex drive when you swerve
I want that interference, it's coherent, I can hear it, uh-huh
That's your heartbeat, it either caught me or it called me, uh-huh
Read slow and you'll find gold mines in these lines
Sincerely, yours truly and right before you go blind, PS

You can get it, you can get it
You can get it, you can get it
And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want
Poetic justice, put it in a song

I'm gon' ask you one more time homie, where is you from or it is a problem?
(Ay you over here for Sherane homie?)
Yo I don't care who this nigga over here for, if he don't tell where he come, it's a wrap, I'm sorry
(Hol' up hol' up hol' up, we gon' do it like this, okay?
I'mma tell you where I'm from, okay?
You gon' tell me where you from, okay?
Or where your grandma stay, where your mama stay, or where your daddy stay, okay?)
Enough with all this talkin'
(Matter of fact, get out the van homie
Get out the car before I snatch you out that motherfucker homie)