Lyrics:
the Big Daddy brung ya
It's nothin but knowledge, I shall bring to you
And I'm not Mr. Rogers or Captain Kangaroo, but I know
"Children, children" Where we
cuckoo
A little crazy, shady, rock a by baby
Rock that fucking boat until that baby gettin wavy
Want the money and the fame but she feeling sort of lazy
cried
Go home, little boys, get off the court
It's a big man's game, you're much too short
Too short, my foot, that's just your way
Of saying you're
still at home doin nice things
Back in the days of turtle wax on Cadillacs
Life to a brother was hoes and macks
I had to come up some way
Pimp daddies
And of course my little brother the Little Daddy Shane
Manditory end of the story, you know what I'm sayin?
Peace!
canteloupe little old maid
A big black berry inside the cool-aid
A bass guitar a old fruit jar
A green canteen and a chocolate bar
Cannonball baby doll
For that white powder
A deuce deuce will leave little holes
In your top like salt shaker
Then I'll finish it off with a big cap
On your head like a park
brother gave me everything
Any time I got in trouble he could probably pull some strings
Walk daddy's footsteps and career same speed
Made the greatest big
the altar boys, true Mama boy
I just heard your bitch call me daddy and you called your boys
Call me Mr. Kane sonning bitches like a father boy
Wish I'm
spared
Little white boy how the fuck you figure
No you can't fuck with a nigga
(You can't fuck with a nigga)
(Thinking you wanna fade me, Mark Killer)
and
enforming spread and gather, sheaved to unobserve,
surreal, inside, upside, beyond, aboard, damn near
sometimes, as if bobby lee's little brother's boy
effect
But what about the crimes you ain't kicked none yet
On the ramed out streets of the Inner City Delray
There once lived a little boy named Violent J
He was Punishin' Big Dope Jungle Brothers was Krazy X Three
It was he his Son Doobie King Tee
A Fresh Prince Paul Kid Whorodin' in a Capri
Comrades
high man
I'm just a young boy, snot nose, hair nappy
Cops ride by squeezin' their trigger fingers at me
So I would go to school and try to get good
cherokee
And a little african American
ApparentlyBrother got soul
And mother gotta bounce
Sunny cal for the gal and
The boy with the brow
Daddy two was
make me Mrs big nasty
With a big old dick boy/ (how you get it that fat?)
Don’t fuck around and lemme play with the stick, boy/ (I bite you bite back)
仓库里面装满世界各地金银财宝
My vault is stuffed with world treasure
Daddy让我出门不要穿的那么高调
Daddy told me not to dress so flashy
像我这样的年轻人会被坏女人遇到
a young boy like me will run into
Yea, so we got this tune called "for women" right
Originally, it was by nina simone
She said it was inspired by, you know
Down south, in the south,
I like the kind of shorts with big booties in 'em
Uh, well, I like the crotch on you, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I like the crotch on you
I, I,
I like the kind of shorts with big booties in 'em
Uh, well, I like the crotch on you, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I like the crotch on you
I, I,
the park bench to start this
Marcus, Jason, my little brother James
All my brothers from my momma but Andre is just the same
Ain't no uno, we a duo, deuce
serving ten to twenty
Your boy snatched your girl and put use to your money
You're out for teen, but what does it mean?
You're just a waste young brother
Luv and my nigga Young Lay
Spit that shit
Cuddies perved by the corner, stout, herb
Got me twisted, mo' cold killin murders
Them brothers gettin'
I know a man named Otis who invented a room,
And his heart was filled with pride
I said to Mr Otis, "What does your room do?"
He said, "It goes
.jpg/224px-Blues_is_a_woman_Reitz_(Little_Brother_Montgomery).jpg "Little Brother Montgomery")
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