And then to put it to you straight He's crazy, lazy and rude His temper's boiling hot Whether you like him or not Not to mention about his mansion And his big old yacht He never gave me a dime Or even spent some time And that's why I had to cold Write this rhyme about
Papa...Papa Crazy Papa was...Crazy Papa...Papa Crazy Papa was...Crazy
Now papa living like a rich man up on the hill Yeah, my daddy gotta Caddy, funky fresh Seville He got diamonds (and furs), for his (and hers) And a cat in the hat that just chills and purrs Now he eats and grubs, then rocks beats at clubs While mamma making nuthin' while she sweeps and rubs You want to know about his dough, how he got paid Well, the labs, (the ass), got sprayed (and laid) because
Papa...Papa Crazy Papa was...Crazy Papa...Papa Crazy Papa was...Crazy
Papa hang with (crazy) people (crazy) times of the night Running 'round with (crazy) women, b-b-b-but that's alright because
Papa...Papa Crazy Papa...Papa Crazy Papa was...Crazy Papa...Papa Crazy
Yo Run my papa was crazy, crazy as can be And my mamma said that he left me when I was three But my mamma never told me he was out of his mind Drinking wine all the time, never earning a dime He didn't care where he slept, or where his clothes where kept He was so in debt somebody broke his neck And on the day that papa died, they wrote on his grave That papa died a bum, but he got brave because
Papa...Papa Crazy Papa was...Crazy Papa was...Papa Crazy Papa was...Crazy
Papa...Papa Crazy Papa Crazy Papa...Papa Crazy Papa Crazy
Papa...Papa Crazy Papa Crazy Papa...Papa Crazy Papa CrazyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.