DOM KENNEDY - Daddy lyrics
[DOM KENNEDY - Daddy lyrics]
She keep talking 'bout
Getting plastic surgery
I really hope she don't
And I wish I was the type
That really enjoyed writing you notes
Video wit' Quik and Suga Free
But that wasn't no boat
Them yachts out in Newport, tell me
'Who on your boat?'
While niggas lie about it
My soul girls cry about it
I'm not a member of Black Hippy
But I recognize higher power
You could eat pickles that's sour and
Sit in LA for hours
And you still wouldn't know what it
Felt like back in '91 and that 325
That's what my pops known to drive
Somebody said I should look for
A house out in Oceanside
I'm from OPM, baby, got to get that straight
So you know it turn me on
I see her fix my plate told her
'Look at the album cover if
You ever miss my face'
I hope I'm on that shit
Like Eric B and Rakim, sucker
Her mom said, 'Cut that song, uh, yeah
That is bumpin''
'Bout time you found somebody out here
That's really sayin' somethin'
I think I'm addicted to
Dippin' down Normandie
This could've been distributed by Priority
Instead we keepin' all the royalties
I stopped wearin' chains cause
Niggas' shit lookin' foily
And I heard what Chris Brown said
But I dick her down loyally
I have to interrupt
Lookin' at your spoiled butt
Only raised by women
So you got waist and rhythms
To get my attention through a dashboard
Why you think little teenage
Boys always crash more?
Lookin' at the new 11s
Thinkin' 'bout gettin' cash
Or waitin' on hoes to start
Shakin' that ass more
I’ve never been to Cannes, France
But i made movies on my black
LA new Era hat and Shawn Stussy
Aw, fuck it, I can't
Tell y'all shit, except, 'Get to it'
Gangsters used to wear nice shirts
And drive big Buicks
Now this nigga on the Internet
Tryin' to pitch music
Nobody want to hear that shit
Getting plastic surgery
I really hope she don't
And I wish I was the type
That really enjoyed writing you notes
Video wit' Quik and Suga Free
But that wasn't no boat
Them yachts out in Newport, tell me
'Who on your boat?'
While niggas lie about it
My soul girls cry about it
I'm not a member of Black Hippy
But I recognize higher power
You could eat pickles that's sour and
Sit in LA for hours
And you still wouldn't know what it
Felt like back in '91 and that 325
That's what my pops known to drive
Somebody said I should look for
A house out in Oceanside
I'm from OPM, baby, got to get that straight
So you know it turn me on
I see her fix my plate told her
'Look at the album cover if
You ever miss my face'
I hope I'm on that shit
Like Eric B and Rakim, sucker
Her mom said, 'Cut that song, uh, yeah
That is bumpin''
'Bout time you found somebody out here
That's really sayin' somethin'
I think I'm addicted to
Dippin' down Normandie
This could've been distributed by Priority
Instead we keepin' all the royalties
I stopped wearin' chains cause
Niggas' shit lookin' foily
And I heard what Chris Brown said
But I dick her down loyally
I have to interrupt
Lookin' at your spoiled butt
Only raised by women
So you got waist and rhythms
To get my attention through a dashboard
Why you think little teenage
Boys always crash more?
Lookin' at the new 11s
Thinkin' 'bout gettin' cash
Or waitin' on hoes to start
Shakin' that ass more
I’ve never been to Cannes, France
But i made movies on my black
LA new Era hat and Shawn Stussy
Aw, fuck it, I can't
Tell y'all shit, except, 'Get to it'
Gangsters used to wear nice shirts
And drive big Buicks
Now this nigga on the Internet
Tryin' to pitch music
Nobody want to hear that shit