Текст, перевод и аккорды “Oh Daddy”
- feat. Young Chris [Chorus: repeat 2X] Oh daddy You know you make me cry.. How can you love me? I can't understand why.. [Beanie Sigel] That's what they yellin when they grab me Eyes are swellin, cryin, tryin to stab me Once they realize they can't have me When I leave 'em try to let 'em down easy like I snatch your heart so easy like Valentine Can't get caught up in that loop again Never letting Cupid in Boo you buggin ain't no time to be lovin Man the grip on my pistol only thing I be huggin It's mack daddy not your daddy mack Bitch you got it criss-crossed (scrap) I ain't havin that I can't have your back Look how you act when I had your back Picture me havin that back to back I pimp proper like shrimp-lobster Check out my pimp-posture Even my limp proper, mama I can't help what's runnin down your face I moved your ass into that furnished place Like you earned that space [Chorus] [Beanie Sigel] God damn baby you had me All the twirlies in the caddy used to take it back gladly We was tighter than Tommy Buns and Keesha You cleant my guns, count my ones, bagged the reefer Shit I thought you was the one - you was my bitch The one that never snitched Taught you how to bust a fifth, shit I taught you how to push a whip Taught you how to suck a dick Taught you how to fluff a brick But you got more drama than a B-mama Got me goin through the motions like C. Thomas With the bullshit, he say she say The bitch is mad cause my jams kick like Eastbay Mad cause they mans got they kicks on replay How you drop from celebrity status Pushin Bent to niggaz in celebrity wagons In them sucka type Jags Now you fuckin type mad [Chorus] [Young Chris] Oh mommy its so sad We had it together You had it whenever That's yo bad You fucked up It wasn't meant to be You lucked up Told me at the end don't trust her See that's when all the bullshit started That's what three me in reverse, counter-clockwise In my mind I swore that we would work But I guess that I was wrong Ran into a dead end Unfaithful bitch You fucked the nigga I was blazin with Fugazied shit It wasn't him it was the paper shit Nowadays its all about the latest shit That or they favorite...car Or get paper from ball Unless your label all that And you labeled as stars Makin the millions Got them bitches willin to do Whatever it takes Takin it off or willin to screw Whoever I bring Guess it's a celebrity thing But I was never ashamed I was blessed with the game [Chorus]
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