"Fly" genre: Funk
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	Funky pop jam about love, life, and the simple thangs I'm lookin' for in a woman.
	CD: coming of [r]age Credits: Written, produced by P.Ragen
	Story Behind the Song I had always wanted to write a real love song, but I wasn't really in love. So instead, I just wrote this song about how dang shy and insecure I am when it comes to the opposite sex. With some help from my friends (Ghetto B & J.Q.), I'm able to break some ground and get a boo who's fly up to the sky! Lyrics V1: See when everybody’s hookin up & I’m still single things get ruff & lonely so here’s my testimonay/It’s not that I like bein’ free but I simply find it to be mo easy, the best for me-e/And girlays probably find me a freak and maybe it could be cuz my last love song was written to a tree-ee/But now I’m wantin sum’n sweet, and sum’n cool, and sum’n free to be-e, my luv MC/So I called up ma luv doctor Ghetto B, I said “Ghetto B can u please help me?”/And he said: Sit ya halfrican booty in that chair right there, now I’m gon aks u some questions boy, have no fear/Chorus: Yo Trick, whatchu want? A girrl/How you want her? Fly . . . fly up to the sky!/How you gonna get her? I dunno I’m shy . . . but Lord knows I should try!/Whatchu want? A girrl/How u want her? Fly . . . fly up to the sky!/How you gonna get her? I dunno I’m shy . . . but Lord knows I should try, Lord knows I should try./V2: See when everybody’s goin’ out well I’ll still be at home wit my beau, Miss HBO/And then I’ll trip off even mo, like self-esteem or if I can blow, and end up eatin’ cookie dough/So I called up ma otha doctor, J.Q., I said “Ghetto B was worthless so I’m resortin’ to you”/And she said: Sit ya tragic booty on my phat chaise longe, now I’ma aks u some questions brotha, please be strong!/Chorus/Bridge: I could just spend my life keepin’ it all in, but then I’d burst just like a cell, be shot straight into hell, be cryin’, dyin’, whinin’, ringin’ every shrink’s bell/Or I could face my fears and go for it, but then I’d risk rejection, and risk acceptance, and risk not bein at home clutching a pillow suckin my thumb/Rap: Right herre is somethin I just don’t understand, Y can’t ya stick outcha chest, dawg, and be a man/But make sho to show off yo mo sensitive side, take her to claire’s and swalla yo pride/She’ll be all over u ifya let her know who’s boss ‘n/And if u buyin’ her food, no matter what its cossin’/Be she black white cuban o asian, /U sounded like will smith I think u needs a vacation\ So instead o callin doctahs left it up to me/And I went out clubbin’ wit J.Q. and Ghetto B./And the moral of the story is to take that chance/Cuz what good is bein’ on this floor if u don’t even dance/Chorus to fade

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