MO3 - Letter To My Mama lyrics

INRTO: For Every Real Nigga Who Got A Mama
Much Love To The Ones Who Lost Theirs Man
(Yea, Yea, Yea, Yea, Yeaah)
My T-Lady Call The Police On Me
She Say Lil Melvin Look I Put You In Jail
Cause I Heard You Was Gettin Shot At
I Rather Visit You In Jail Than Visit
You At Ya Grave So Look Tho

I Know My Mama Was Tired Of Me
Sellin Dope Since Middle School
Come In The House When I Wanted To
It Was A Lot Of Sht She Couldn’t Hide From Me
(Like What) like Mama Was A Hustler
(yeah) Boyfriend He Had Customers
What They Think 3 Hustle For
(Why They Lyin On Me)

I Used To Love This Hoe
But She Crossed That Line
I Went To TYC She Had A Baby
On Me When I Took That Time (I Did)
Nah He Ain’t Mine But I Kept Him
With Me I Swear To God (Yea)
Four Years Passed By I Ain’t Seen Him
Since But I Know He Fine

13030 Stoney Crook Days I Had Crooked Ways
Doin Niggas Dirty That Was DND
You Know Forest Ln young Nigga Servin
Cigarette Plus We Four Deep
Big Mama’s Chicken We Splitting A 4-Piece
50¢ Soda From The Candy Lady
In The Hood Hoes Couldn’t Stand Me Baby
I Used To Fck Friends Damn He Crazy
A Street Nigga Is What Mama Raised
I Had A Broken Home But Mama Gave It
The Heart Of Gold So Imma Shine And Make It
On My Soul Imma Grind And Take It
Before I’m Gone Imma Climb To Greatness
They Ask Me Why I Sang I Tell Em I Can’t Lie
Mama Had Me On The East Side At
Greater Hope In That Church Choir
(Straight Up) Look Me In My
Eye I Won’t Testify before I Do Put Me In A
Casket And Set 3 On Fire

This A Letter To My Mama Nem
Look I Know We Never Had Sht But
Girl I’m Glad You Had Me
For Them 9 Months You Carried Me
You Pushed Out A Savage
So I’m Doin It For My Mama
Nem Somebody Go Tell My Mama
(Somebody Go Tell My Mama) That Her
Son Can Fck A Bad Btch
And He Look Like His Daddy On The
Cool He Glad You Had Him
For Them 9 Months You Carried Him My Mama Nem

What You Know About Being 15
At That Corner Store
Dorito Bag Full Of Dime Sacks
With That Burner On Me
These Young Niggas Claimin These Cliques
Shootin Up Sht And I Done Already Did It
? To Buy A Whole Thang
Two Cell Phones Gettin It
Why They Hatin On Me yeah
But I Ain't Trippin Cause They
Btch Really Like It
She Waiting On Me She Ain’t
Seen Nothin Like It
She Spend That Paper On 3
And If I Let Her One Night It
Bet She Gone Stay For A Week
And When I Pull Up In The
Hood I’m Flexin On Em (They Hate That)
Three Years Ago State Locked Me
Down I Couldn’t Shake That
If You Got It Know I’m Gone Take
That Don’t Fantasize I State Facts The
Btch Ass Fat She Shake That I’m A
Squad Nigga And I Hate Rats
This For My Mama My Daddy My Brother
My Sister My Auntie My Uncle
Tell Em I Got Em We Came From The Struggle
Imma Get Us Out The Gutta
Ran My Sack Up With My Young Nigga Hustle
And I’m Still Yellin Free Gutta
That’s On My Mama Look Tell Em I Got Her
Tell My Young Niggas I Love Em
This A Letter To My Mama Nem
Look I Know We Never Had Sht But
Girl I’m Glad You Had Me
For Them 9 Months You Carried Me
You Pushed Out A Savage
So I’m Doin It For My Mama
Nem Somebody Go Tell My Mama
(Tell Somebody Go Tell Nicole) That Her
Son Can Fck A Bad Btch
And He Look Like His Daddy On The
Cool He Glad You Had Him
For Them 9 Months You Carried Him My Mama Nem

That’s A Letter To My Mama
A Letter To My Granny a Letter To My Auntie
That’s A Letter To My Potnas
That’s A Letter To The Streets