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digga d & m huncho – baby mums crib lyrics

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[intro: m huncho]
(quincy tellem)
mum’s crib
i’m at your baby mum’s crib
i’m at your baby mum’s crib
i’m at your baby mum’s crib

[chorus: m huncho]
i’m at your baby mother’s crib (yeah)
walk down the stairs and i open up the fridge (yeah, yeah)
get a capri sun, man, i know that it’s your kid’s (yeah, yeah)
sorry for the drama, but his mama let me in
i like pistols, that’s my sh+t (that’s my sh+t)
don’t need a switch (nah)
finger real itchy, i need physio again (yeah)
f+ck her one time, now it’s, “cheerio,” again (yeah)
six+one+nine your b+tch, rey mysterio again
again

[verse 1: digga d]
step+daddy digga, handsome+ass n+gga
private jet to paris on the weekend for some dinner
twenty bullets in my pistol, i ain’t carryin’ a spinner
you know everything over hеre is bigger
i couldn’t pick between thеm hoes, so i had them both
why buy a b+tch some flowers? she already got a rose
make her feel special, buy her shoes and buy her clothes
keep it on the low, i hope that we don’t get exposed
i don’t beef over women, g, don’t make me mad
tell ’em, “chill, i don’t wanna blam your baby dad” (bah, bah, bah)
god, if i told you i was tryin’, i’d be lyin’
’cause you know that i’m the reason n+ggas dyin’
my heart got so cold, it must be frozen
i’d rather that than give it to a lil’ ho and get it broken
so worried ’bout the backdoor, they left the windows open
i climbed in and bust the front door for my bro them
[chorus: m huncho]
i’m at your baby mother’s crib (yeah)
walk down the stairs and i open up the fridge (yeah, yeah)
get a capri sun, man, i know that it’s your kid’s (yeah, yeah)
sorry for the drama, but his mama let me in
i like pistols, that’s my sh+t (that’s my sh+t)
don’t need a switch (nah)
finger real itchy, i need physio again (yeah)
f+ck her one time, now it’s, “cheerio,” again (yeah)
six+one+nine your b+tch, rey mysterio again
again

[verse 2: m huncho]
huncho, uh
bankrolls all in this house, plants get cropped
forty+five, don’t get shot (don’t get shot, p+ssy)
can’t be my buddy if you snitch and you told
and i got some new t++th, but i didn’t need a mold
oud on the cologne
ho thinks she can dig around, you won’t get gold, b+tch
used to dream for a fix, then i went and got that
trap house boom every day of the week
and there’s never really time when you’re callin’, we ain’t got that
ever since i clocked in, i ain’t never clocked out
still got brothers locked in, time to let the thugs out
i was gonna lose the trap and fully go leg’
but i got my stash at your baby mum’s crib
[chorus: m huncho]
i’m at your baby mother’s crib (yeah)
walk down the stairs and i open up the fridge (yeah, yeah)
get a capri sun, man, i know that it’s your kid’s (yeah, yeah)
sorry for the drama, but his mama let me in
i like pistols, that’s my sh+t (that’s my sh+t)
don’t need a switch (nah)
finger real itchy, i need physio again (yeah)
f+ck her one time, now it’s, “cheerio,” again (yeah)
six+one+nine your b+tch, rey mysterio again
again



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