Denzel Curry - Parents lyrics

[Denzel Curry - Parents lyrics]

Your momma ain't shit, your daddy ain't shit
And then you realize that life is a bitch
With a dirty white tee and
Some dirty ass kicks and you got no money
So you can't feed the jit
Your momma ain't shit, your daddy ain't shit
And then you realize that life is a bitch
Got no education, so you got to be the chick
That strip for a living 'cause
You gotta pay the rent

Pity, pity
Pity first you showing off them titties
Letting niggas lick the clittie to a
Flower or some witty comment
Witty, now you shitty with those
Saggy tig ol' bitties and a flabby old ass
Trying to look like Ms nicki
Picky, 'cause I say you look like Ms piggy
It's a damn shame that we the same pigment
First you act like Bobby
Now you look like Whitney
If a nigga know the chorus then
Please say it with me

Your momma ain't shit, your daddy ain't shit
And then you realize that life is a bitch
With a dirty white tee and
Some dirty ass kicks and you got no money
So you can't feed the jit
Your momma ain't shit, your daddy ain't shit
And then you realize that life is a bitch
Got no education, so you got to be the chick
That strip for a living 'cause
You gotta pay the rent

Nigga, nigga, nigga let a nigga level with ya
How the hell you gon' be broke
And always be the bigger spender?
Stories sweeter than the Splenda that
Was thrown inside the blender
So you wanna get crunk while you
Mix it with the liquor
Nigga, people like you, I don't get ya
Claimin' you a baller but your
Momma living with ya
Better look inside the picture
'cause you ain't getting richer
Now it's hard to see his son 'cause
The momma took him with her

Your momma ain't shit, your daddy ain't shit
And then you realize that life is a bitch
With a dirty white tee and
Some dirty ass kicks and you got no money
So you can't feed the jit
Your momma ain't shit, your daddy ain't shit
And then you realize that life is a bitch
Got no education, so you got to be the chick
That strip for a living 'cause
You gotta pay the rent

Let 'em do whatever it's whatever
They endeavor
From the streets to the clubs, to the guns
To the cheddar
Till you get a phone call, email, or a letter
That your jit locked up or
He dead on the stretcher
Better parenting is the main pressure
Your daughter got kids but
Wasn't taught about pleasure
Your kids are the treasure
The love you couldn't measure
Will end up in the hole if
You don't get it together

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