Testi musica canzoni

Oh, females dads be trippin for real
I mean, Im a player with ma, right
And see what had happened was
I was hollerin at this chick in front of the 99 cent
store
Well, heres the whole story


She was a tall slim, oh, chick I met last week
At the mall, cute feet with the baby fat booty
She paged me to come over the mall
So I smashed in the crib, bumpin, cant walk {Oh,
boy}
With the doo rag on {Yo, boy}
When she sang that song she turnin me on
If would have known her pops was home
Could have stayed at crib, hollered at her on the
phone
But pops got hot, he was old school pimpin
Tank tops, flip flops and dress socks
Rang dang when he came with the questions
Boy, you were young and how knowin for the Lexus
Im sorry, Mr. Jackson, but I sell records
Nah, once again, I aint got a jail record
Its Nick Cannon, the cat you aint used to
The Rapper, actor, comedienneproducer


I dont really like this dude, I cant stand him
Where did he come from, tell me
I dont really like this dude, I want so much
So much more for my daughter (Your pops dont like me)


I dont really like this dude, I cant stand him
Where did he come from, tell me
I dont really like this dude, I want so much
So much more for my daughter (Your pops dont like me)


When the girls from the ghetto act the size of they
stilettos
6-7-8 wanna make us wait
They wanna date, gotta ask pops
You a grown woman, all that need to stop
At the club, yeah, you have a thug at home or not
You daddys little girl that he love a lot
Well, he dont know about that tat you got, huh
Nah, Im playin Im just rockin
Sho