My mother said my father was a real livewire Hustled on the avenue of Lennox That he was a don, shot dope in his arm Paid visits to the methodon clinic A straight womanizer, no religion He just leaned on bitches His name rung in the slums, niggaz run for they gun Blood thirsty, he was so vicious
[Chorus} Poppa was a rolling stone (he left a long time ago) Poppa was a rolling stone (he never ever was at home, no, no) Momma said daddy's dead (stop messing with the baby's head) One day he'll grow up strong (one day he'll be a man)
Momma said father was a mean muthafucka A clean muthafucka, a lean muthafucka Got money in the pot, got his pops in the block For sellings rocks, a dope fiend, muthafuckas He struggled all his life, got blood on his knife Light skinned, he had your eyes But my mother couldn't handle him The liquor, the gambling, plus he had four wives
[Chorus]
My mother said my father had a real bad temper Loud, wild, he was too foul With no hesitation, he would kill you With no education, he was still proud With his brother Big Harvey, he did a bank robbery A car flipped, all the money spilled out Before it was done, police caught him with some Riddle of bullets, he died in a shootout
[Chorus x2]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
