charles hamilton - mama's son of a gun (rip talise) lyrics
see, i love it when she calls me daddy! it makes up for all the acne that i had to pop, and the pain from my mama and daddy. see, my daddy abused my mama. i was used to the drama. but my mama had me, basically to be happy. she needed the happiness that a child could provide to not be wild. running the industry as a journalist. burnin’ n-gg-s when they would say, “they should go away with their brand new baby boy!”. lenny wilkens know. i’m the king of cleveland. the fatman. no scoop, though. so dope. no computer though. i don’t need to move so slow. oh!
i don’t want to be stuck in the past
’cause i’m mama’s son of a gun
i don’t want my cousin stuck in my -ss
’cause i’m mama’s son of a gun
i just want to lay down in the gr-ss
like mama’s (son of a) gun
and i wish that my mama could last
but i’m mama’s son of a gun
shouts to the tribe! shouts to the very fact i rhyme, and i cry when i rhyme. one. you are so beautiful to me. one. can you be the two to go to we? the beautiful sight of us was enough to ignite the night. but one. i fell in love with the lady that fellas dug only when she controls them. people know when she controls them. we should go in. each time i feel so weak, you go in to my soul and drive me insane. i complain, but why should i? i cannot lie. your beauty resides in my eyes. and the eye contact and erupt the stars. can’t n-body f-ck with charles!
i don’t want to be stuck in the past
’cause i’m mama’s son of a gun
i don’t want my cousin stuck in my -ss
’cause i’m mama’s son of a gun
i just want to lay down in the gr-ss
like mama’s (son of a) gun
and i wish that my mama could last
but i’m mama’s son of a gun
i look up to the l-st you have for me. i trust you, but actually… if i “just do…” like nike, they’re gonna be past me with every athlete. these stars that i find are not r-t-rds. they’re in my mind. they keep me guarded and r-t-rded, but i’m not weebok-in’. not a baby when i’m stepping on the the block. kinda crazy, and i’m sweapon is a glock. and the glock is my mind. and i pop it all the time. and a lot of people shine when they say i gotta pop for 9. i’m “kind of” a popular guy. riding on top of the mic. pause. just to sound like them guys who get a matter of your time
i love you, mama
i don’t want to be stuck in the past
’cause i’m mama’s son of a gun
i don’t want my cousin stuck in my -ss
’cause i’m mama’s son of a gun
i just want to lay down in the gr-ss
like mama’s (son of a) gun
and i wish that my mama could last
but i’m mama’s son of a gun
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