| 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 |