Chorus:
I, I came to put it down
Straight from New York to da A-Town
Haters wanna see me down
I ain't even put, put, put it down

And when I'm flippin' the script
and they gon be like-Oh
And if I skip em' or chip em' they gon be like-No
Cause when I'm spittin' they sittin'
cause they already-Know

This Real Music I Make It Hot

Verse:
It's Little Mama voice of the young people
Mouthpiece for the young breeze so
slow ya speed... Whoa!
I'm about dat fetty, about that
dat dough, about dat flow
After me that's as far as it goes
Cause Little Mama got whips and chains
The only time you see it bark is at a
tear for I'm a walk ya game
Been G'd up since Hawk was lain
So you doubt me you doubt ya brain
Must, must be insane to ever
thinkin' that a chick like B could
ever, ever see a chick like me
That's Crazy!
And if you ever thought that it might be
Then you betta step ya J-O-B, Up Baby!
Been crazy since I was a baby!
Now ya girl switch write bars and spit crazy
Let the whole world know I gets crazy!
With da music I make it hot
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Chorus

Hot, hot my lyrics be popping
Oh how I could just spit it so sloppy
The way that I be rocking they
probably think I'm cocky
But they don't know about me I
grab it til I lock it-Down
They pointin' fingaz and chose me
cause I'm a hold it-Down
I'm spittin records and bet this
you can't control it-Now
They spinning' records and notice
that I'm a hold it-Down
With da music I make it pop

Pop, Pop dough school, pro tool,
Get in da booth and I'm a show you how a pro do
Me to you whom
Not even I could stand up when I
Why try look, my eyes don't lie
I don't see nobody close as I
I been lookin' through my periphial vision and I
Start to wonder hypnosed is I
Nobody as nice as I remember that I, I, I,

Chorus

It's Little Mama!
Voice of the Young People!

This Real Music I Make It Hot

It's Little Mama!