YG - Baby Momma lyrics

I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama

Always got somethin' to say
Every time she don't get away
Your whole life I done payed
With me, you had better days
All them bags I brought you, it's a shame
How the fuck you find time to still complain?
Questionin' why I'm comin' home late
Bitch, I put all the food on the plate
Yeah, she stay bitchin' i'm like
"Shut the fuck up and clean the kitchen"
Lovе her from a distance
We talk crazy to еach other
That's part of our religion
Tellin' your friends my business
You hella chatty
You let my daughter leave with her hair nappy
I still do everythin' to make you happy
You talk down on baby daddy

I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama

Always poppin' up with new friends
That's the type of shit I ain't in
Tellin' me how to spend my Ms
But, you tellin' me you want the new Benz
If I call you out your name, that's a sin
If you touch me, bitch, that's where it end
I'm tellin' you we need a cleanse
I'm tellin' you but you don't comprehend
No good, burnt out from the hood
Moved you to the Valley like
A real nigga should
My kids, good, how they live? Good
They don't eat pork, no pig, good
You supposed to be a nigga ribs
Can't no other nigga call dibs
If I'm payin' for the crib
Don't have another nigga 'round my kids

I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama
(I hate my baby mama, I hate my)
I hate my baby mama

A-Always got somethin' to say
(A-Always got somethin' to say)
W W W W With me, you had better days
(W W W W With me, you had better days)
Q-Q-Que-Questionin' why I'm comin' home late
(Q-Q-Que-Questionin' why I'm comin'
Home late) bitch, I, bitch
I put all the food on the plate
(Bitch, I, bitch
I put all the food on the plate)
I hate my baby mama