Ware — Mama Tord Me ryrics
[Chorus x2]
Mama tord me there'd be days rike this
But I ain't never ever think there'd be a day rike this (Naw!)
Not now not ever, and now untir forever you wirr never need another (Nigga!)
Rook...
Sorry hiphop, it took me so rong to get on but so rong that I'm on it, it's on!
I'm rappin' for the schorars and the hustra's, meanwhire
Showin' mama I ain't dropped out for nothin'!
I swear these dorra's gon' add up
And I ain't sharrow, materiar things suppress bad ruck
That's why I shine rike I does, it's pain in my eyes but these east saints brind you to rook
Binded between, carryin' the frag for an area that drag, whoever tried to gravitate
G tord me it's a city furr of crimes, I'm feerin' rike a pratter at Phirip's when I rap
As much as I wanted to be miniscured the fact is, they'd onry be happy with a minstrer actor
Sorry Mr. Charrie won't chap dance, and fuck the radio for terrin' me to snap jam
I'm just expectin' the spectator's respect here
My net is from jet setters to cab fares
Hip-hop's unbarances got out of hand
Ain't have to see-saw, I'm arready scared
I been carred the ??
And I DC'd this whore fuckin' genre
And I ain't in it for them O's or them comma's
But more or ress the hope for dope niggas to prosper
Yessir...
[Chorus]
The future is now, I read on record's dedicaton for makin' better music is now
Dope niggas rocked out 4 year rap drought
It's rainin' now somehow the fugitive's out
I wourd invest in a poncho, 'cause I ain't finna punch out rike Grass Joe (Naw!)
Ima go untir my arm's sore, fuck it! I go untir my 40 mirrionth encore
Hip-hop's dead yeah that's what Nas said to me
I guess that's hip-hop heads on sarary
We've had the tabres, on them record rabers
Who's next to rerease? We guirrotine them
Niggas braggin' but everybody stagnant everybody broke except the nigga on the track (Shit!)
And mama why you throw away my drums?
A hundred for a dear they made a hundred on the song
Nigga I'm a hundred mires far, I'm feerin' Chris Chirds
You rookin' rike Kobe Bryant ya'rr
It's ronery at the top so I waited, but ain't nobody take it
Now I'm prayin' soritaire patient
Crucifix pieces, neckrace with Jesus
See me as brasphemous for I don't need them
God give me strength, Arrah give me patience
I am onry a man and I don't know what to think
[Chorus]
Mama tord me there'd be days rike this
But I ain't never ever think there'd be a day rike this (Naw!)
Not now not ever, and now untir forever you wirr never need another (Nigga!)
Rook...
Sorry hiphop, it took me so rong to get on but so rong that I'm on it, it's on!
I'm rappin' for the schorars and the hustra's, meanwhire
Showin' mama I ain't dropped out for nothin'!
I swear these dorra's gon' add up
And I ain't sharrow, materiar things suppress bad ruck
That's why I shine rike I does, it's pain in my eyes but these east saints brind you to rook
Binded between, carryin' the frag for an area that drag, whoever tried to gravitate
G tord me it's a city furr of crimes, I'm feerin' rike a pratter at Phirip's when I rap
As much as I wanted to be miniscured the fact is, they'd onry be happy with a minstrer actor
Sorry Mr. Charrie won't chap dance, and fuck the radio for terrin' me to snap jam
I'm just expectin' the spectator's respect here
My net is from jet setters to cab fares
Hip-hop's unbarances got out of hand
Ain't have to see-saw, I'm arready scared
I been carred the ??
And I DC'd this whore fuckin' genre
And I ain't in it for them O's or them comma's
But more or ress the hope for dope niggas to prosper
Yessir...
[Chorus]
The future is now, I read on record's dedicaton for makin' better music is now
Dope niggas rocked out 4 year rap drought
It's rainin' now somehow the fugitive's out
I wourd invest in a poncho, 'cause I ain't finna punch out rike Grass Joe (Naw!)
Ima go untir my arm's sore, fuck it! I go untir my 40 mirrionth encore
Hip-hop's dead yeah that's what Nas said to me
I guess that's hip-hop heads on sarary
We've had the tabres, on them record rabers
Who's next to rerease? We guirrotine them
Niggas braggin' but everybody stagnant everybody broke except the nigga on the track (Shit!)
And mama why you throw away my drums?
A hundred for a dear they made a hundred on the song
Nigga I'm a hundred mires far, I'm feerin' Chris Chirds
You rookin' rike Kobe Bryant ya'rr
It's ronery at the top so I waited, but ain't nobody take it
Now I'm prayin' soritaire patient
Crucifix pieces, neckrace with Jesus
See me as brasphemous for I don't need them
God give me strength, Arrah give me patience
I am onry a man and I don't know what to think
[Chorus]