Datz On My Mama Lyrics – Nelly
Singer: Nelly
Title: Datz On My Mama
Yo, how you know when a muh’f#cker serious?
When he’ll put it on his momma, let’s go
(derrty!) ladies and gentlemen
Males and females (e.n.t.!) of all kinds (let’s go)
All the way from st. louis to minnesota (we all we got!)
We bringin y’all, taylor made
{tru} it’s jung tru (in this ho) jung tru (in this ho)
Jung tru (in this ho)
{nel} and that’s on my momma
{blu} blu goose (in this b#tch) blu goose (in this b#tch)
Blu goose (in this b#tch)
{nel} n#gg# that’s on my momma
{gube} gube thug (in this muh’f#cker) gube thug (in this muh’f#cker)
Gube thug (in this muh’f#cker)
{nel} and that’s on my momma
Taylor made! you heard me? that’s on my momma
They ain’t playin ’round hurr, and that’s on my momma!
J, u, n, g
Catch me in a house with a hundred floors, benz with a hundrеd doors
Walkin out the grammy’s with a hundred awards
I’m the bеst songwriter and the best damn producer (now)
Cause wh#res gettin highly and stoned like medusa
Yeahhhh, a new hibushi{?} eatin all sushi
And then i tear the mall down for new prada and gucci
My album’s like jamie foxx, goin’ for diamond
Like martin on “blue streak” i’m goin to find her
Said my flow’s ludicrous, i disturb the peace
And i ain’t “never scared,” get your +bones crushed+ in the street
I put d on the block, like i’m one of the l.o.x
Gettin’ bucks like milwaukee, d-bo in the spot
Like jamaicans on the highway on bad boys ii
Cause a hundred car crash when they see jung tru
I’m a first round draft pick, the chain say derrty
Like cam takin over the roc, you n#gg#s heard me, yeahhh
Yeahhhh, now i ain’t jigga but i keep beyoncs with me
I ain’t will but, i keep a smith & wess’ to blaze with me
This story get notorious, like my n#gg#, biggie
I got a g-unit of killers like my n#gg#, 50
My chronic chokin, ain’t no +badder boy+ than me
And you can tell, when i stop ’em still, rollin on the sprees
We gon’ leave a trail of rappers still, goin on them keys (yeahhh)
I think of me of when i long stroke, tia
But tamara keep it real with me, used to pop, pills with me
Know she with a king, ridin through the hills with me
Hungry, that’s vanessa williams +soul food+ meals with me (yeahhh)
I take a prissy chick like lisa +saved by the bell+
Bring her through the ghetto, make her drive cause she got the mil’
Now i ain’t +money mike+, with the prada black, and the money right
Honey tight, but i’ll holla back, b#tch it’s funny right
{blu} blu goose (in this ho) blu goose (in this ho)
Blu goose (in this ho)
{nel} and that’s on my momma
{tru} jung tru (in this b#tch) jung tru (in this b#tch)
Jung tru (in this b#tch)
{nel} n#gg# that’s on my momma
{gube} gube thug (in this muh’f#cker) gube thug (in this muh’f#cker)
Gube thug (in this muh’f#cker)
{nel} and that’s on my momma
Taylor made! you heard me? that’s on my momma
They ain’t playin ’round hurr, and that’s on my momma!
You might catch me with a dime with a crazy #ss, crazy stash
Pockets like malcolm bliss, crazy cash
My life’s like a runaway train, i’m gone in it
Treat ya body like a phone and knock off a tone in it (yeahhh)
As far as rap goes, seen a million gimmicks
On a prepaid celly, with a million minutes
And you ain’t never seen a throwback, until you meet me
Cause the back say jesus, he played in a.d. (yeahhh)
I don’t like too much, kinda hard to please
Guns like old toothpaste, hard to squeeze
And um, n#gg#s talk greasy until the steel him ’em
I just send ’em back to god and let him deal with ’em (yeahhh)
For the last two bars, i’mma murder the mic
And come through like snipes on the back of the bike
This life’s a “new jack city” sh#t, ya heard me?
Yeah, i come through like snipes on the back of the bike
{gube} gube thug (in this ho) gube thug (in this ho)
Gube thub (in this ho)
{nel} and that’s on my momma
{blu} blu goose (in this b#tch) blu goose (in this b#tch)
Blu goose (in this b#tch)
{nel} n#gg# that’s on my momma
{tru} jung tru (in this muh’f#cker) jung tru (in this muh’f#cker)
Jung tru (in this muh’f#cker)
{nel} and that’s on my momma
Taylor made! you heard me? that’s on my momma
They ain’t playin ’round hurr, and that’s on my momma!
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Lyrics Nelly – Datz On My Mama
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