sha mula - baby mama drama lyrics
[intro]
whoa, whoa
[verse 1]
i said this baby mama drama got me grinding for a dollar
win this beat, gotta keep that hammer in my hand just like your honor
n-gg- be hatin’, ’cause i’m poppin’
they tighter than v-g-n-s
and i got that tool on me b-tch i ain’t talking ’bout no pliers
n-gg-, f-ck you talkin’ ‘bout
i hit your leg, you doo-doo walk it out
makin’ money or makin’ ’em mad is what i’m all about
shooters in the front and in the back i got ‘em all around
y’all n-gg-s be drippin’, when i walk you hear that water sound
i’m on it, don’t put n-body on it in this b-tch
quiet storm when i perform
it’s like it’s pourin’ in this b-tch
i’m sha mula, be chillin’ like i’m jordan on the bench
these n-gg-s be ballin’, i’m tryin’ to see some scoring in this b-tch
and i’m automatically gonna make you mad at me
when i got that bag on me
she got a sweet tooth, go in the mouth she’s catching cavities
tragedy. n-gg-s really out here lookin’ raggedy
them n-gg-s in the front got my back just like a battery
g-y sh-t. don’t make me take the b-tch
not all her face and looks
i beat the p-ssy up, told her friends that i was dangerous
i came to get to get f-cking paper, b-tch
i don’t need no paper clip
i came to get my cake. i’m in the kitchen, b-tch, i’m baking it
n-gg-, what the f-ck they be thinkin’
these l’il n-gg-s be shrinkin’
got a b-tch that’s puerto rican, she tryin’ to eat up the p-n-s
i’m ballin’. l’il b-tch i feel like gilbert arenas
when i pull up with that tommy, ain’t no martin, it ain’t no gina, b-tch
i mean this sh-t. n-gg-s post it up and, we ain’t deletin’ sh-t
all my diamonds rocky, hittin’ like apollo creed and sh-t
you seen me with a couple bad b-tches i be sleepin’ with
b-tch i got the juice, i’m ‘bout to have these b-tches drinkin’ it
so little shorty come to the crib if she a little h-rny
this little shorty really gonna ride me like a little pony
i’m feeling like a montana, call me little tony
th’ f-ck wrong with y’all n-gg-s? i’ll hold up but i’m a little bony
so what it lookin’ like, y’all n-gg-s ain’t lookin’ right
these n-gg-s ain’t lookin’ fly, and these n-gg-s ain’t bookin’ flights
and if it’s war, i might just pull up with them brooklyn guys
we boss n-gg-s, y’all lost n-gg-s, y’all soft n-gg-s like pudding pie
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