| It's me at last, the Rickster, Def Jam's where I be Most agree it's kinda amazin folks are born from where we pee at Though I definetly fiend it, baby no way, chill, clever mean it Gotta be careful, be told, commercial ever |
| seen it Want a few, I wrote, some ask my cheatin do I know
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| Not a dope, love the mother, or she loves to a ho
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| So I dig her a lot, and although shorty honey break nigga
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| How you figure, he a big rat money makin nigga
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| Cute as a bunny, he tell bout the time he pickin cotton
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| So it ain’t forgottin, hope I don’t spoil a nigga rotten
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| Also, don’t discriminate white, he be quite bright, taught he might
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| If notty like and seventy fiver, help me raise my shorty right
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| So when I come home wit the quarter, I say, yo shorty run to royal
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| Seen as a mother livin on soil, it’s best to have someone to spoil
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| So any toy, he wants he get, yo kids it worth it, Mr. A’Doy
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| Said he destroy, annoy, don’t meen a moms in middle of fifth and joy
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| And it’s a boy
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| Picture friends, milk and cookies, when you done wit the boys game
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| Toy playin, Ricky Jr. being one of the joys name
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| And further taught him birds and bees
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| so on the nerdin birds, heard the second to third
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| and 'dada'better be the first words too
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| Just kiddin, gonna be a one man girl, spend a lotta me wearin
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| Best to care, best about what money can buy, is what I be wearin
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| Rip these ribbons around, protectin, this ain’t a kid I’ve kept in Don’t raise ya kindergarten probably be another major step in Long as holdin star, holdin, cuz yo be loadin trips and sowin
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| Ya knowin, throw a fancy hover in the drowin
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| It’s kinda pleasin a ray, so baby sit, no thank you heasin
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| Sneazin, now what do I do when he cry for no reason
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| So any toy, he wants he get, yo kids it worth it, Mr. A’Doy
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| Said he destroy, annoy, don’t meen a moms in middle of fifth and joy
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| And it’s a boy
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| Baby mom, under wing, though if dressed, I could string
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| Line of cuties, though cling, don’t wanna mess up a good thing
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| You know how it is, when guys are big, girls seem to hog
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| And scream a dog or scheme for more drugs
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| Goin into labor date, 18 of August
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| It’s that time tellin friends, congratulate’s yellin
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| Gotta be six or premature, but thanks to God, he’s doin well
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| And givin credit where it’s due, while rap achievin let it As for bills forget it, cuz the way I rap, don’t even sweat it Why though when me and my husband, don’t fuss, agree
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| Though son, I still kinda wish I could of been there when he was born
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| At 3:01, by gone be gone, there’s nowhere wrong and all
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| Yours sons about, and since I didn’t, this being the first
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| You know I had to write a rap about the incident
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| And the rose is for the squeeze, I would of sent it for no women
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| Wit the kin in it, we should thank Lord as we enter a new beginning
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| And like I said, any toy, I’m tryin ya that, Ms. A’Doy
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| That they destroy, annoy, don’t mean a moms in middle of fifth and joy
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| And it’s a boy |