I never liked you niggas Who knew one day I'd be just like you niggas Uh uh uh alright you niggas Uh uh uh alright you niggas When I become my mama's boyfriends?
He walked in our lives I was only five Superman pajamas I was super duper fly Sittin there like, "Why?" He at least Hooper-Size You know I scrutinize, like, "Who this newer guy?" I'm my mama boyfriend I'm her little husband I was the man of the house when it wasn't Tryna get to know me, homie? Just kill the charm You ain't interested in me You just tryning to fuck my mom
We all the voices of our parents' bad choices The aftermath of divorces The kids of bitter split-ups And babysitters and grandparents don't know what do to with us And the last thing I want to see is mama's new nigga You old Old Spice wearing Short chain wearing Dress shoes and jogging pants wearing Church sock wearing When you first stop caring about your appearance? When you get here anyway? I already got parents Don't try to put me in line I already got crayons My mama said I could do it I already got clearance Keep your hands off my mama How Anita got Clarence Y'all I know she look good But you need to stop staring I drew a picture of her that'd make her proud But the door was locked and the TV up so loud I screamed out, "I ain't going to sleep no time soon! And when I do, I'm sleeping in my mama's room!"
I don't like you nigga If I was old enough I'd fight you nigga I want to run over you with my bike, you nigga Don't go to sleep at night, you niggaa When I become my mama's boyfriends?
Twenty years later where has the time gone Now you see I'm dating, having problems of my own Now that I'm grown the tables turned around I never thought I'd ever raise another nigga's child He don't like his mama's boyfriend Just like me don't wanna do the wrong thing That's very un-Spike Lee But he be like D Bo round his mama, there When she here, he be quiet When she leave, he be talking again He be wilding out Be calm I don't drink the drama Or sip the Dom-Tyler-Perry-on "You gonna marry my mom?" Look, I don't read palms And I don't read Psalms But I did take little man to church Took little man to school Look, little man, kids don't make the rules Even though I ain't raised you You your mama's angel Don't get it twisted, baby boy, I'll Ving Rhames you