Kool Keith, Kutmasta Kurt - Your Mom Is My Wife lyrics
[Kool Keith, Kutmasta Kurt - Your Mom Is My Wife lyrics]
Yo wassup, this is Kool Keith, '96 to 2000
I don't be out there with these little boys
Tryin' to freestyle - they my sons
Freestyles with their whack styles
(my styl-oz)
But, I'm big time, I married your mother
Gave you a portion of my skills
(so step off)
I'm beyond that, kid - your daddy
Boy You've been neglected
I was yo' father You jack MC's
- I left yo' mother
Y'all, was way too small
Remember mommy had your brother
You got some rhymes now
And how for y'all forgot yo' daddy?
Your mom was pregnant in '86
Ridin' in my Caddy
I gave her royalties for you
Money to feed your crew
You were starvin', cryin', diapers
'I wanna rhyme' (waaaah)
Yo' mom was on my back
'Won't you teach him how to rhyme?'
Now you hard as a rock, tough boys
All my sons that's a shame boys
I bought your last Christmas toys
I was potty trainin' with baby
Doo doo on your vest
Your crew is no test, respect yo' mother
She's my wife
You're still a toddler, man, whatever
A monkey all your life
You don't want the skill
I spittles on your anal bill
I read some prime-time stories that's more
Deep than Jack and Jill so come on
I'm not the one stepdad -
I'm your real father
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
I'm still big-time, yeah I know in fact
Son here's my autograph
You was my favorite kid
I helped you study math
Me and yo' mother raise you
Up in the projects
Now you want to battle yo' father
And let your skill flex
Your crew got no chance on
The label kickin' crap rap
Look at your groupies, your girlfriends
They on my tip
They wanna see your father get loose
Your daddy flip
You copy my tapes - my
Rap style's still graphic
You wonder how I run things from '86 to '96?
My daddy's still in the mix
With my mommy they had they 8th baby
My little brother Tommy:
'I can grow up one day with my crew
Battle daddy you love my mommy, my newborn
Baby brother Larry, goo-goo, ga-ga'
Pass them wet Pampers, Ali-Babas
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Me and yo mom's still tight
We still together
Why is my chain on yo' neck
And why you wearin' my leather?
'Yo daddy, I'm hardcore
I'm Russell Simmon's tour' but, I taught you
'You taught me how to rhyme'
What I taught you: off beat and on time
You live off me to be the copycat clone-MC
I wear disguises now MC's don't
Know who is me i keep my stylo' with mommy
We on the down-low
We on paid vacations in Hawaii
I'm a real pro
I hear your whack-style that you
Think is so superb
You need to rip your papers
Kick your albums to the curb
That's enough of your bluff
Like H&R pumpin' stuff
I'm your real father, extra biological
This gift's raw for all y'all, psychological
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Yeah, my wife forever
As we go to leave this nonsense
And walk into our atmosphere
She's my wife i still love her
I don't be out there with these little boys
Tryin' to freestyle - they my sons
Freestyles with their whack styles
(my styl-oz)
But, I'm big time, I married your mother
Gave you a portion of my skills
(so step off)
I'm beyond that, kid - your daddy
Boy You've been neglected
I was yo' father You jack MC's
- I left yo' mother
Y'all, was way too small
Remember mommy had your brother
You got some rhymes now
And how for y'all forgot yo' daddy?
Your mom was pregnant in '86
Ridin' in my Caddy
I gave her royalties for you
Money to feed your crew
You were starvin', cryin', diapers
'I wanna rhyme' (waaaah)
Yo' mom was on my back
'Won't you teach him how to rhyme?'
Now you hard as a rock, tough boys
All my sons that's a shame boys
I bought your last Christmas toys
I was potty trainin' with baby
Doo doo on your vest
Your crew is no test, respect yo' mother
She's my wife
You're still a toddler, man, whatever
A monkey all your life
You don't want the skill
I spittles on your anal bill
I read some prime-time stories that's more
Deep than Jack and Jill so come on
I'm not the one stepdad -
I'm your real father
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
I'm still big-time, yeah I know in fact
Son here's my autograph
You was my favorite kid
I helped you study math
Me and yo' mother raise you
Up in the projects
Now you want to battle yo' father
And let your skill flex
Your crew got no chance on
The label kickin' crap rap
Look at your groupies, your girlfriends
They on my tip
They wanna see your father get loose
Your daddy flip
You copy my tapes - my
Rap style's still graphic
You wonder how I run things from '86 to '96?
My daddy's still in the mix
With my mommy they had they 8th baby
My little brother Tommy:
'I can grow up one day with my crew
Battle daddy you love my mommy, my newborn
Baby brother Larry, goo-goo, ga-ga'
Pass them wet Pampers, Ali-Babas
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Me and yo mom's still tight
We still together
Why is my chain on yo' neck
And why you wearin' my leather?
'Yo daddy, I'm hardcore
I'm Russell Simmon's tour' but, I taught you
'You taught me how to rhyme'
What I taught you: off beat and on time
You live off me to be the copycat clone-MC
I wear disguises now MC's don't
Know who is me i keep my stylo' with mommy
We on the down-low
We on paid vacations in Hawaii
I'm a real pro
I hear your whack-style that you
Think is so superb
You need to rip your papers
Kick your albums to the curb
That's enough of your bluff
Like H&R pumpin' stuff
I'm your real father, extra biological
This gift's raw for all y'all, psychological
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Your mom is my wife
She's a sweet, fine, old lady (yo' mother)
Yeah, my wife forever
As we go to leave this nonsense
And walk into our atmosphere
She's my wife i still love her