Young Blood - Somebody Moma's Son

I'm somebody's momma's son, moma somebody Tryna kill your son, they put some money
on my noggin If I don't come home tonight, don't bother
to call me I'm dealing with these demons, I'm tired of
runnin', runnin', tired
My flow childish, wait till it mature

I'm this shit like a toddler, grew up with no father
Used to be a failure, smoke a pound of feathers Get high till I get cancer
On the road like taxis, ask the plug Why he taxing, he show love
I was half, my life's a book, this a chopper Story of a scam rapper, time traveler, financer

Wait on my back, knees can't handle, no tortelles, no tattles
Young, gold, black, panther style, free aliexpress My last bitch was toxic, gave her ass ten thousand
Baby mama taught to act like, she don't know me, act like
We done fucked the hedges, baby bitch, you told me

That you'll never put your child through a life like mine
I done lost so much in one lifetime Lord, save my soul, I done lost my mind
On the road so long, I done lost my home I'm somebody's son, momma's somebody
Really want me dead, they put some money on my conscience

If I don't come home today, don't worry, God guide me
Fighting with these demons like I'm boxing Mike Tyson
Running from my problems, got me tired and exhausted
Better days are coming, I'm blessed to see tomorrow

On this beat, I'm humping, you say fuck me, then it's fuck you
Grew up in the mud, how I rose, they be wondering
Photos make me uncomfortable, I don't post on Instagram
Been rich before unemployment scams, sold all my sauce on Telegram

Really got rich on Snapchat, made a quarter million, gave it back
No regrets, no tippity-tap, throw up the five, no jibber-jab
On my toes, no tic-tac, die slow, live fast
It's all good, my bad, all blues in my bag

Out my body in my bag, ride this beat like high to hell
Only time can tell where I'm in
Money to the Lord, son, come and get sin
I name my son the Jesus, because I know that God is within

Going through trials and tribulations, I'm a dying, living legend
Spread my wings, fly with the wind
Hail on my head, worth a couple bands
Too much money for a rubber band

Edd made American great again
Say to the children, take the land
I don't sleep in any bed
I can't trust no bitch

Open eyes when I kiss
Apple watch on my wrist
Before the fame, I was rich
Before money, I was pissed

Before that, it was this
I'm somebody's mama, son
Mama, somebody
Trying to kill your son

They put some money on my noggin
If I don't come home tonight, don't bother to call me
I'm dealing with these demons
I'm tired of running

I'm dealing with these demons
I'm tired of running
I'm tired of running

Written by:
davon youngblood

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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