[Intro: Marvin Gaye]
Mother Mother, mother mother
Everybody thinks were wrong
Mother, mother. Who are they
To judge us? Mother, mother
Simply cause we wear our hair long
Mother, mother Oohhhhhhhhhhhhh
[Verse 1]
Im gonna take ya'll back on this one
Mommy make me some oatmeal
The mailman outside he bringin' mo' bills
Daddy driving in his raggedy automobile
Papoose got the cooties he k**ed a roach ill
"Mommy Toya' keep kickin' me with them old heels"
"Boy stop trying to make a mountain out a mole hill"
I grew up in a shack just like O'Neal
Born and raised in the ghetto where it was so real
Back in the days when K' was on cold chill
We lived on the first floor, I'm from down the hill
We had to duck on the floor, they shooting off steel
They use to have shoot outs over them dope deals
They say "If he's so nice why he got no deal?"
I say my talent is something these labels won't steal
I'm doing this for them rappers up out of Brownsville
Who never went platinum they had a bad deal
[Hook: Marvin Gaye]
Oh, make you wanna holler
The way they do my life
Make me wanna holler
The way they do my life
[Verse 2]
Yo momma so fat when she walk her booty claps
Need gloves to eat a tootsie roll, she so black
You actin' like your Mom's all that
She's so cross sighted that when she cries tears go down her back
Who ever stepped on the lines, yo' mother drink wine
Who ever stepped on the cracks, yo mother smokes crack
We told mother jokes as if we took them for granted
Drinking sugar water and eating a syrup sandwich
We threw rocks at lots, the buildings was abandoned
Father sinners was teaching, but we ain't understand it
Pissy mattresses, we was on the block flippin'
Needed some school clothes so we went shoplifting
Triple fat goose first deal big difference
Chasin' the girls, seven humps, eleven kisses
You slap box better than me, then I fought you
Smacked you in yo' face, and then start screamin' "I caught you"
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
I was borned to rappers back then, I was nice kid
Had them red and black lumberjack just like Big
Osh Kosh B'Gosh and flat tops
Battled the human beatbox stuffed wax and skelly tops
Used G's favourite pants, Tyson was the champ
Started small time hustlin' tired of them foodstamps
Back then the dreads use to have all the weak spots
n***as were scared when they used to say "what the blood clot!"
But the hood got tired of that you hood gunshots
n***as started to get gun bu*ted and what not
Tomahawks, faceheads, low lives
The ceptic cards, black spades, lil wives
GP, SSP, HBO, those are some of the new york gangs I knew
Man I'm daydreamin' off the haze I blow
I just caught a flashback, I smoked too much dro
Flashback, Flashback, Flashback