Noble Prophit - On My Mama 2

Damn, son, where'd you find this
Won't believe if I told 'em
I don't flex, I show 'em
Had to find myself
Fillin' up my pockets, I see them watchin' my steps
(O Slim gahdamn)
On my mama, I'm just tryna get my paper up
On the road to riches, I got paper cuts
Money comin' in, too much ain't enough
Keep it on my ear, I gotta stay in touch
On my mama, I'm just tryna get my paper up
On the road to riches, I got paper cuts
Money comin' in, too much ain't enough
Gettin' paid, I ain't stoppin' till I can't get up
And he can
And she can
And we can
He wanna
She wanna
We wanna
Aye let go
We gon
The gang
The squad
We finna
(Prophit, bomaye)
Owe you nothin' but an ass whoopin
Face down in the water, Tony with the last bullet
Hop out the black GM in a black hoodie
Hit him in his spine like a seahorse, leave him with his whole back crooked
Got the girls in the back looking
Wanna choose me, I don't react to it
Gave my name, she tattooed it
Had me hard-headed as a bad student
Her walls spread, I crashed through it
Mutulu with tools on him
In pursuit, makin' moves on 'em
At the plug like a new modem
Won't impress me if every dude know her
Story told like the Book of Job
Wanna see me break
King Kunta never could, so they cut my foot still
Took a leap of faith
Have a lot to say when I'm on the field
To this day, never seen 'em play
In a prison for the free folk, I've been betrayed
Put hands on you like the tray in church
On the high top, gettin' faded first
Kept me broke for a long time, but I made it work
Life to them, so April 1st
Deposit money, get a bank alert
Step wrong, it's a harder way for you
Leave more than your ankle hurt
No recent posts, I display a verse
I stretch her out, hit it three times like a wrestling mat
Hit her more than a hack and Shaq
Here, get her back, I won't get attached
Gave me crumbs, aye the rest of that
Then invest in rap, I'm chess with it
And the best in that
Swipe left with her message at
Got deleted, I ain't even read it
I'm too conceited, had a cold shoulder
Thought I was anemic
Lack of funds, never could receive it
Smoke a dub with a queen
Diamond her King of Clubs
Be reneging on her money
Like a promise, he can never keep it
Brag on what he got, but I never seen it
Claim he super fly
Drop him on his head like it's '91
Cause I'm not the one
Undertaker walkin' down
Give what you earn
Paul Bearer brought the gun
I went in the trunk and then lightning struck
Made him sweat more than hot combs
Through a nappy 'fro and then he shrunk
Find me somewhere with a blunt
And a girl who got drunk
She plant-based, always craving me at the potluck
Missionary looking up at me like a top bunk
Talk loud, but they sound like Jody when he got jumped
Pressure kept and it's tucked in like dress shirts
Marathon with the leg work
Never met her
Me and Slim get the check first
Get her to put the tip in
I don't need you to make my head hurt
Me and Slim where the bread at
Say less, no text back
We multiply it and collect that
(Give me your money)
Me and Slim in the black Benz
Mo' licks than chapped lips
Hat tricks on back fist
Out the mud so I flash it
On my mama, I'm just tryna get my paper up
On the road to riches, I got paper cuts
Money comin' in, too much ain't enough
Keep it on my ear, I gotta stay in touch
On my mama, I'm just tryna get my paper up
On the road to riches, I got paper cuts
Money comin' in, too much ain't enough
Gettin' paid, I ain't stoppin' till I can't get up
And he can
And she can
And we can
He wanna
She wanna
We wanna
Aye let go
We gon
The gang
The squad
We finna

Written by:
Alvin Cooper

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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