[Verse 1] I was born, the son of a knife and a time bomb With a cordless mic in my right palm When my mama seen it her reaction was quite calm, at first Until I looked up at her and uttered a curse Jesus she freaked out, screaming and pleading to get a nurse The orderlies aborted me, figures it didn't work So I'm born with these deformities, itchin' to spit a verse Mama brought me home from the hospital inside her purse A newborn with torn ligaments Crawling 'round the house in shoehorns with foreign cigarettes I kept my two fronts gold While writin' lyrics, made a song at just a few months old, oh My mom would never opt to play with me Spent the first three years looking for adoption agencies
[Chorus] I've been writing my songs and tryin' to be strong But mama I just want to sing I know you don't like rap but you must face facts And let a nigga do his thing So mama please don't disown your own son Don't disown your own son Mama I want to sing
[Verse 2] I was 8, man; feeling great, rockin' an apron My motto was "rip spirits when I kick lyrics" But my mama wasn't tryin' to hear it Tried to leave me at Sears with Some Jell-O and a stolen gear shift I had to pawn it for cab fare Made it to the crib, gave my mama a bad scare I told my mama "this is what I really wanna do Be a famous rapper, do a tell-it-all on Donahue" But then she winced "You little son of a bitch No son of mine is gonna be a hippity hop hop Rappity rap rapper, that could be bad Back to the bathroom you go Strapped to the crapper without your crackers" But mom, how long you gonna lock me in the restroom? "Until you're 22, when this little phase possessing you Has run its course, don't you wanna be a doctor, Danny? I talked to Watson's family, he's in college already And he's only 11, you'll never make it to heaven rappin'" Her telling me I couldn't was the best that ever happened, word
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Copy to Clipboard: [Verse 1] I was born, the son of a knife and a time bomb With a cordless mic in my right palm When my mama seen it her reaction was quite calm, at first Until I looked up at her and uttered a curse Jesus she freaked out, screaming and pleading to get a nurse The orderlies aborted me, figures it didn't work So I'm born with these deformities, itchin' to spit a verse Mama brought me home from the hospital inside her purse A newborn with torn ligaments Crawling 'round the house in shoehorns with foreign cigarettes I kept my two fronts gold While writin' lyrics, made a song at just a few months old, oh My mom would never opt to play with me Spent the first three years looking for adoption agencies
[Chorus] I've been writing my songs and tryin' to be strong But mama I just want to sing I know you don't like rap but you must face facts And let a nigga do his thing So mama please don't disown your own son Don't disown your own son Mama I want to sing
[Verse 2] I was 8, man; feeling great, rockin' an apron My motto was "rip spirits when I kick lyrics" But my mama wasn't tryin' to hear it Tried to leave me at Sears with Some Jell-O and a stolen gear shift I had to pawn it for cab fare Made it to the crib, gave my mama a bad scare I told my mama "this is what I really wanna do Be a famous rapper, do a tell-it-all on Donahue" But then she winced "You little son of a bitch No son of mine is gonna be a hippity hop hop Rappity rap rapper, that could be bad Back to the bathroom you go Strapped to the crapper without your crackers" But mom, how long you gonna lock me in the restroom? "Until you're 22, when this little phase possessing you Has run its course, don't you wanna be a doctor, Danny? I talked to Watson's family, he's in college already And he's only 11, you'll never make it to heaven rappin'" Her telling me I couldn't was the best that ever happened, word
[Chorus]
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