Lyrics Mama, Im a Man - Hot Sugar, Antwon, Big Baby Gandhi

Mama, Im a Man

I’m a dunn dunn
He got a stun gun
He pull it on a pussy nigga
To show where we come from
I ain’t really tripping
I’m nine pints deep
I don’t let him sleep over
Cause he might kill me in my sleep
I’ll pull up in that Honda
You mob around in Miatas
I work all day like your father
At night, we eatin' tostadas
I’m doing good, my pasta got 4 cheeses
You cheesy if you think you working harder than me, bitch
Hot sugar, black coffee
I’m in the Denali with three hoes, looking ungodly
Fuck 'em all doggy
They style’s all soggy
Already forgot 'em cause my mind’s kinda foggy
I’m that shiesty dude, that you already know
Laying with your ho
She like ice cream and cracked wheat bagels
Pretty young dyke on my cellphone
Walking limp, triple 6
With a dime trick, got 'em sucking dick
No coogi for the suitor
You try to play her out?
She ratchet
So the ho might shoot ya
My soul glow flow glisten YOLO ho listen slow-mo Odo
Deep-space shape-shift heat wave Asics commercials
Me so commercial, tight keep circle, tight pants Urkel
Unh, flask of Henny in the suit
Becky in the coupe
Now she wanna spoon like Jewish Eddie for the soup
I’m watchin belly on the mute
Slow pan out king-size bed fly bitch malamute
Busted — it say Danner on the boot
Hot Sugar be the white David Banner on the loop
Big Baby like the brown Betty Boop with the alley-oop
Bam — we aimin' on these bitches
Old dip no shit slow flow, so remarkable when I spit it
Ah, fuck yall if yall ain’t wit it
We aimin' on these bitches
My flow butter hear the words that I utter
Burn rappers like herbs that I puff up
Burn like Quarans in the south
Your mom’s in my mouth
Left ya sister with the lip blister
strippers flippin through the pictures
Tripping on the textures
Hologram, holla for a gram, holla at ya man
All I had was a dollar and a plan
Now I’ma tell my mama I’m a man