MOTHER OF GOD

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Swear I'm getting too old for the dumb shit
They tryna turn my soul into nothing, yeah
Remember Broadway, bowl for the dumplings
Remember hard days, was with the fuck shit
Now I'm 'bout to leave the
Clothes back in London
This is gold, this a toast to my youngins
This a ode to when I'm gone
Or when I'm done here
'Cause this black skin really
Making sons stare
Without the packs with weed for my blunt
Yeah with the pack
I bet the weed wouldn't come here
And I'm attached, see these streets, yeah
I love it
This a pact to my team, it's a conference
Going deeper in this hole in this dungeon
To the point that I don't even want shit
Just freedom and a little bit of loving
Just freedom and a little bit of love

Why are you always sitting around?
Would you not like to get
Up and do something?
You know how hard it is to
Take care of two kids
When you still have to go to school and work?
You gotta do better you say you're trying
But you maybe try harder
I don't wanna say it
I don't know what you gotta say to her now
Try harder