My Baby's Daddy Page #8

You been owing me $5

for, like, two weeks now.

My block, where everything

is everything, fa sheezy

My block,

we probably done it all

So, Mrs. XiXi Ling Yoon

Dung Quon Puck Washington.

Yes?

You'll be happy to know that

I'm hanging up my gloves, boo.

Really?

You're giving up boxing?

Well, not completely.

Me and my father-in-law,

Cha Ching,

opened us up our very own

bo xing gym/karate studio.

We call it the Mofo Dojo.

Hit me hard!

Hit me hard! Hit me!

Good. Get back.

Come on.

Let's go!

Come on!

Come on!

Harder!

You hit like a girl!

Other hand!

Get back over there.

Come on!

Come on!

Class dismissed.

To great friends.

Nah.

To great...

babies' daddies.

Who would have thought?

Three little babies turning us

into three grown men.

My block

We made the impossible

look easy, fa sheezy

Hmmmm

What's up, Allen?

It's Little Tupac

What's up, Allen Iverson?

What's up, Philly?

- "Come on, yeah, yeah, yeah"

- "Sing for me, sing for me"

It's Mini The biggest

preschool mack around

Always treatin' Philly

like my playground

Now, back in the day,

before the fortune and fame

I knew three babies' daddies

who had no game

It was Lonnie, Dom,

and my man Big G

All of them together

ain't no player like me

Lonnie had a baby mama

he tried to treat nice

But you can't turn Ro

into a housewife

Lonnie was a square

Big glasses, nappy hair

Who chumped the champ

after thug boot camp

And then there's G,

who thinks he's a fighter

If he laid off the hot wings,

he'd be a little lighter

My homeboy Dom,

so busy gettin' on

Couldn't see his daughter

bein' raised by two moms

Dom's got my back,

my income's higher

But if I don't see

my royalties

He's gettin' fired

Mini T's gonna whip it up

Bringin' y'all

that funky stuff

All these daddies

messing up

Baby daddy drama,

baby mama drama

Mini T's gonna whip it up

Bringin' y'all

that funky stuff

All these daddies

messing up

Baby daddy drama,

baby mama drama

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

Yeah

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

Okay, why even front like

you're not lookin' at me?

Do I look like

your baby daddy?

Nah, I'm more like a pimp

Tell your man to keep

his eyes on you

'Fore you leave with me

Keep the brim crispy,

leave the stickers on it

The East Coast thing,

though it might seem iffy

What if I take you

outside and

What if I take you

for a ride and

What if I gave you

a credit card?

What if I told you

I was hella hard?

From the way that you shakin'

them apple bottoms

Your man's here

but that's no problem

'Cause he got this here

in the smash, oh, yeah

And Darkchild

got this in the smash

Your girlfriend

can't keep her eyes off me

In the club

with my girl in here

So

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

Dawg, you better watch her

I'm in her head

like a doctor

Messin' her brain up

She tuggin' at my shirt,

chick messin' my chain up

Bad Lucc for real,

baby daddies are lame

But I gotta deal with it

Make back outside

I'm too cool

for the regular ride

She on your boy,

I keep her hood

I tell her hop in the fo'

and keep her head down

Poppin' the mo',

your boy Lucc is a player

She already think

I'm a nice dude

I told her

that I won't even fight, dude

I'm just so bigger

than that

As soon as she smiled,

I said

"Yeah, I got triggers

for that"

I can already see it

Me and you

hittin' the strip

With one clip in the middle

of your cleavage

Let's hit the road, mama,

old clothes, leave 'em

Your baby daddy

don't want to see 'em

Yeah

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

You better watch your girl

Because she keeps shakin'

for me

You better watch your girl

Before she comes home

with me

Yeah, yeah.

Ballin Records, Bungalo presents

Beelow and Juvenile.

Super Psycho production.

So Treacherous, baby.

Infamous.

This one's for the streets.

It's Juvenile and Beelow,

now, where this move at?

Where the move at?

Now, where the move at?

We kickin' it right here

with the new throwback

You ride trucks

on them factory wheels

You wear like gold,

not a platinum grill

You can't spin it

with them played hubcaps

You don't go to clubs

where thugs be at

You got long hair,

but it's braided in a weave

You got tissue

where your titties should be

You look savage,

but you're still on the poor

You a pimp,

but you ain't got no whore

Man, what you know

about this fresh fifty?

You don't know the issue

Been hustlin' all week,

that's why I'm in the club

And I got a cup

with that green stuff in it

Shorty, you ain't no baller

unless my team up in it

And now my team up in it

So best believe

we comin' strong

I roll my blunts up, light

'em, and take 'em to the dome

Then check my cologne

'Cause it's a hundred

for a bottle

I'm with Juvenile

We throwin' hundreds

to the models

I got 'em lookin'

Now I know you see

my ballin' grill

Ball and chain,

it ain't no thing

I got some ballin' wheels

And your baby mama

lovin' me

Dreamin' about discussion

Get close so she can get them

numbers and come f*** with me

That's why you muggin' me,

it ain't no secret

You know we keep it crunked

up, up in the club

Worldwide with this rap, and

I'm about to make it happen

Can't be in the club

scrappin'

- "Whaaa"

- "What's up?"

You ride trucks

on them factory wheels

You wear like gold,

not a platinum grill

You can't spin it

with them played hubcaps

You don't go to clubs

where thugs be at

You got long hair,

but it's braided in a weave

You got tissue

where your titties should be

You look savage,

but you're still on the poor

You a pimp,

but you ain't got no whore

Where the boom at?

Now, where the boom at?

It's Juvenile and Beelow,

now, where this move at?

Now, where the move at?

Now, where the boom at?

We kickin' it right here

with the new throwback

I'm steppin' out

in somethin' flippin'

Grippin' grain

when I'm whippin'

So much pressure

in that trunk

Got that Juvi to skippin'

And that whole block dug it

like we off in the club

I got 'em lookin'

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes