's goin' down Why they sellin' niggaz, CD's for under a dime? If it's all love daddy why you come wit' your nine? Why my niggaz ain't get that cake?
these, I'll put that there on every day Boy tryna figure me out, is like Lamar changing But my childhood was fucked up - raised rowdy by a single moms
, (Nah) Probly never had a fight, No guns, none of that, Niggas know im right, (Yeah) I say goodnight to my son, Give my baby moms a little cake, And my moms
I got roaches and vats of the rats carryin' bats and gats So I 'fore I snack jack Because I'm not down with water from the hydrant My moms takin' a
fame and fortune Why can't you live this? All day hands on bitches With financial ventures, enhance the riches Gotta hold the cake, my grand moms had
I still rap and get paid to gat Since '87, that's how the shit comes We made two hundred thousand in six months Sellin' tapes not cakes, cheques kept
niggas want for half price Same bitch y'all niggas was blamin' all y'all problems on I'm the reason why half of y'all niggas can't Even go in your moms
hear the music I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use it This shit is to be to let go, so welcome to the ghetto Got no love from my moms an pops
space between niggas and me ever What? Ballin' outta control? Nah, petty theivin' Leavin' no evidence or clues bitch you gets a date wit yo moms But
an' go to girls hostels.. Shag dem, then link there best friend.. You're the shit on my shoe, waste..Dash ya and splash on the floor, in ya moms' basement
us Your baby boy meet the daytime Oldest watchin' an' these niggaz tryin' to get mine Remember back then the lines in your flat top Hopin' your moms
's a wrap, how could you possibly stop the Apocalypse When I'm atomic bombing the populous Shock the metropolis hostile as a kid popping the Glock at his moms
point-of-view The renegade You been afraid I penetrate pop culture Bring 'em a lot closer To the block where they Pop toasters And they live With they moms
hoes blowing up my phone Aint no use for small talking when they know Im trynna bone, fuck em' I holla "lata;" man right now my minds else where My moms
through, you better pray them bullets missed y'all, I thank the Lord He let a nigga make it this far, A lot niggas don't, a lot of moms weep. I gotta
dressed bitches watching them with they snubs on While I'm in the kitchen pretending to be Raekwon Watching Rachel Ray all day, I get my cake on Fiends
so you should be good Hit her with the stiff one, she callin' me wood And we don't love those hoes, with they flat butts caked up And tipped up toes,
