Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mama's Family (feat. Fiend, KLC, Kane & Abel, Mr. Serv-On, Mac) , by - Mia x. Release date: 31.12.1996
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mama's Family (feat. Fiend, KLC, Kane & Abel, Mr. Serv-On, Mac) , by - Mia x. Mama's Family (feat. Fiend, KLC, Kane & Abel, Mr. Serv-On, Mac) |
| I’m mama superior, bitches recognize |
| Don’t a damn thing move until I hear «mother, may I» |
| I chastise, with ruger nines and hollow tips, venom dipped |
| With dums dums baby, but you don’t want none |
| Six sons indeed, they be The Baddest |
| Most Criminal, Serv-On and The Camoflauge Assassin |
| Actin up always bullets bringin tears |
| But you best not say shit about my kids, or you gets did |
| Lit up like Christmas trees |
| Wanna be mommy’s understand who I am, the biggest of all |
| Runs my household and holds down your block |
| Open up shop, don’t make me knock |
| Your dick in the dirt, I hurt, behind the cheese and the products |
| Faceless corpses found shot up from plastic toys |
| Yeah, we bout some funky noise |
| Eighty six Ma Parker and her boys, this is mama’s family |
| May I do mine |
| Represent my No Limit click with my new nine |
| May I do mine |
| Represent my No Limit click (Mama Mia) |
| May I do mine |
| Represent my No Limit click with my new nine |
| May I do mine |
| Represent my No Limit click |
| With Fiend’s Mr., watch me hit em, get em, for mama I’m a split em |
| And let my desert eagle lit em, til the family forget em |
| Kill em, pop ya, my guidelines are improper |
| Gettin bent ever since I was christened in vodka |
| Hand me my chopper, my bullets they penetrate |
| Fuck the money rate when Im as hungry as a Hatian |
| Mama may I forever stay high (fa sho), for safe keepin |
| Stay fiendin baby, cause I’m more devil then human being |
| Money schemin, supplying my workers with birds and dealing |
| Because mama understand that my hustlin has a meaning |
| The reason to stay passive ain’t here no more |
| Addicted from havin it, from the ceiling to the floor |
| Fa sho and dedicated to my family chromosome |
| The Pope, come get it badder Fiend, now tell me the war zone |
| Black strong, puttin red dots on Uncle Sam |
| Continuin to be a bad man (bad man) and grams for Fiend |
| I said my mama was a rolling stone to the bone |
| Wherever she lays her piece of chrome is her home (there it is) |
| As long as she wants it to be there, bitch ass niggas beware |
| The spot where your standing I really wouldn’t want to be there |
| Now see there, K dont pack fair |
| My little brother’s a pair, standin straight over there |
| I get respect like Elliot Ness, so how you figure |
| Old punk ass, broke ass, bitch ass niggas |
| I brings drama like you spit on my mama |
| And before you think to steppin best done pause like a comma |
| Cause I done lays niggas down flat like that |
| Bitch on your stomach or back |
| So I don’t wanna hear no bullshit |
| About my brothers that I roll with and my brothers that I pull hoes with |
| Cause it’s a blessing to get this ass whoopin and a lesson |
| Now come and get this real session |
| Lesson one, never fuck with my mama or brothers |
| Two, buckshots flyin as we burn another |
| To the motherfuckin three, get somewhere when I get there |
| To the four, like I said before niggas I don’t pack fair |
| Motherfuckers penny penchin' |
| I’m pushin a forty thousand dollar machine sittin on fuckin twenty inches |
| All paid out without a doubt |
| We rumble like the Bronx, and a bag that’ll blow your fuckin back out |
| So mama I wanna get into some gangsta shit |
| But they don’t wanna get into no gangsta shit |
| They all played out and they can’t say shit |
| That’s all I gotta say now mama that’s it |
| Dear mama, they want your tubes tied cause your kids so gangstafied |
| We ride smokin that cannibus |
| Homicide, leave ya set hotter then pamper piss |
| Fuck scimilac, mama fi’n to jack |
| Mama taught me how to cook crack, if niggas bangin too then bang back |
| Cause that, I keep my gat close to hand |
| Niggas stuntin like Jackie Chan |
| I fill em with lead, leave em dead |
| With they head leaking like an oil can |
| For Christmas my list consists of nina |
| Two masks, two Glocks with extra clips and my favorite street sweeper |
| Look ma, I’m bout to bang this nigga, this fuckin pussy eater |
| Goin up my jaws, with breakin laws |
| Robbin niggas out they rocks at the bus stop, leave em standin in they |
| Drawers |
| Keep them hoes on all fours |
| Test me, you must be on them rocks like Pooky |
| Best learn the facts of life like Tootie |
| If we was in the pen nigga put it on your bootie |
| I used to watch cartoons while I’m breakin out keys in the backroom |
| At the table, boom, ten G’s for little Kane, ten G’s for Abel |
| Twin thugs down south, mama said knock you out |
| Congratulations, it’s blood relations |
| Mama done gave birth to a brand new baby killer |
| Pass that nine rattlemiller nigga |
| Addicted to lead, fuck breasts, I was gun fed |
| Misled by Uncle Boz and Uncle Ed (family ties) |
| No beds so you can toss this dead bodys the smell born in hell |
| Mr. Bavgate, Mr. No Limit affiliate, Mr. retaliate |
| With a twelve gauge and a handshake |
| The baddest motherfucker east of the Mississippi |
| I’ll bang ya for every letter in Kansas City |
| I can’t spell, so Lord forgive me |
| Fuck goin to movies, she took me gun battles |
| And hid her dope in the baby rattle |
| Ain’t no reg and nice meal and apple juice, kept my bowels loose |
| For my first birthday she gave a nigga a duece duece |
| So sincerely mama’s number one, blast one for your oldest son |
| So now I lay me down to sleep |
| Fuck em, this family’ll never live in peace |
| So if I bang one I hang one, mama’s oldest son, nina |
| Dear mama, the youngest of us, bust quickly |
| Assassin, flashin in soldier fashion with the army action |
| Below the seas where the warm air breeze |
| Murder is disease, call it big ease, flooded with keys of China |
| Macadon put you on like revlon, them fake niggas get they rep on |
| I stack money like the Orientals, what’s up to all them niggas that I’m kin to |
| To make a meal I’m bent to, mama said the rent’s due |
| What’s happenin, put them thug niggas on the map and |
| I represent like it’s my first time rapping |
| What’s the deal, keep it real and then real |
| The ill nigga feel, the blood spills on my army pantses |
| Buckin at the ambulances to my foes |
| Shots to his nose, I make sho' the casket is closed |
| The family’s tight like ham and cheese |
| Once again I’m camofluage yall |
| May I do mine |
| Represent my No Limit click with my new nine |
| May I do mine |
| Represent my No Limit click |