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