| This one’s for you baby girl
|
| That’s right (As we tip toe to the 9−8)
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| Lee, my baby, what’s happening?
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| We gon dip da through the 9−7
|
| As we tip toe to the 9−8
|
| As we dip da through the 9−7
|
| As we tip toe to the 9−8
|
| As we dip da through the 9−7
|
| As we tip toe to the 9−8
|
| As we dip da through the 9−7
|
| As we tip toe to the 9−8
|
| Daddy you trippin
|
| Come here momma
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| Momma don’t cry
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| No we don’t need my daddy no more
|
| Old alcoholic insecure punk
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| What you hit my momma for?
|
| Now I got so many personalities
|
| It’s a shame
|
| And since pressure can bust a pipe
|
| I’m relieving my brain
|
| You ain’t my daddy
|
| You ain’t my father
|
| You’re water, Walter
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| And my sister Laniesha
|
| She really ain’t your daughter
|
| Now my momma got a real man
|
| Me!
|
| I remember how bad you treated that pretty lady
|
| And what you thought was cupid
|
| Turned out to be
|
| A violent, itty-bitty, punk, drunk, punk
|
| With a bow and arrow
|
| Just like you, stupid!
|
| And knowin everything I rap about is true
|
| But the cold part about it is
|
| I got half this shit from you
|
| Now how in the hell
|
| Did you figure you was gon cross
|
| That pretty blue eyed-green eyed
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| Country voodoo creole female
|
| Now you reaping what you sow
|
| Cause I’m ??? |
| you
|
| And my heavenly father in heaven
|
| Is watching you
|
| Don’t worry momma
|
| We gon lay low
|
| And stay low
|
| As soon as I get out of jail
|
| Momma let’s carry on
|
| You dip da through the 9−7
|
| As we tip toe to the 9−8
|
| Baby dip da through the 9−7
|
| As we tip toe to the 9−8
|
| And dip da through the 9−7
|
| As we tip toe to the 9−8
|
| And all the way from them A-B-C's
|
| To them 1−2-3's
|
| To the birds and the bees
|
| Drinking 40's with OG’s
|
| Came a group of young fools
|
| Who was close as close could get
|
| We sported golf hats and ???
|
| Stayed down for the set
|
| Ready to hoo-ride
|
| Cause my life is a picnic
|
| Just one big set-trip
|
| Snitches and tricks to get with right
|
| I went to sleep
|
| To wake up to the same old thing
|
| My lady, my baby
|
| No job, just homies ready to gangbang
|
| My momma tried her best to raise me right
|
| But still I’m leaving with the homies
|
| Hurtin her feelings
|
| Bout to drive her crazy
|
| She told me every time she hear the police
|
| She was hoping it wasn’t me in the street
|
| Somewhere deceased
|
| Now we struggle to live
|
| But we living to die
|
| I see my homies dying one by one
|
| I wanna cry
|
| But if heaven’s where your living at
|
| That’s the same damn place
|
| Suga Free is gon be chilling at
|
| I sold my soul for the good
|
| Cause I don’t want nobody
|
| Going to my momma house
|
| Telling her I died in the hood
|
| So let me slide to the side
|
| On my tippie toes
|
| And thank my G’s
|
| Feel the breeze
|
| And walk my girl on the beach
|
| And have a little lunch
|
| And make a little love
|
| And kiss her body
|
| And appreciate the tingly bud
|
| And to keep it real man
|
| My freak Angelique
|
| Just turned twenty
|
| But when she was six man
|
| Her daddy was her boyfriend
|
| That’s right
|
| Know it
|
| I’m out here with it
|
| I see it, know it, gonna tell it
|
| Momma, I appreciate you baby girl
|
| And to my homeboys that’s resting in peace
|
| I can’t see ya homie
|
| But we still share the same atmosphere
|
| I love ya, I love ya man
|
| Rest in peace dog
|
| Rest |