And i ain't got what it takes
Uh, that's the sound your mom makes,
My mom is scolding me again for fucking bitches
Your grind's feeble, i'm regal, really, i'm willy smith
She only love me when i be ignoring
Your mom walks in and says good morning
Holla at ya boy young roy’s in the kill shit
Your mom would rather raise a maggot
In front of your mom your 1st, 2nd and 3rd born.
And then i'll lay you down and record soft porn
Soon to smoke em by the yard till my lungs can't get through
Mom and dad are on my dick bout everything i fucking do
Hit the green like running backs with no yards
Here, i got your mom some wal-mart gift cards,
Told her that her pastor was a faggot and he likes john
Chorus: you only get one mom and dad, but remember your mom
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