Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Ricky M. L. Walters, Vance Andre Wright
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Slick RickIt's a Boy Lyrics:
It's me at last, the Rickster, Def Jam's where I
be And most agree it's kinda amazing folks are
born from where we pee at Though I definitely
fiend it, baby no way, chills, clever mean it
being Got to be careful (... be told), commercial
ever seen it? Want a few hot ropes, some ask am I
cheatin', do I? Nope Not a dope, love the
mother, also loves me too I hope So I dig her a
lot and although shorty honey break a nigga How
you figure, bein' a big rap money makin' nigga
Cute as a button, he tell 'bout the time we picked
for cotton So it ain't forgotten, hope I don't
spoil the nigga rotten Also, don't discriminate
white, he'll be quite bright, if taught him right
If not he like ask heavenly father, help me raise
my shorty right So when I come home with the coil,
I say "yo shorty run to royal" Seein' as
I'm loyal and livin' on soil, it's best when you
have someone to spoil So any toy, he wants he
gets, yo kids ain't worth it midst the toys That
they destroy, annoy, though me and his moms in
middle of fits of joy and it's a boy
Pictured friends, milk and cookies, when you're
done with the boys game Toy plane, Ricky Jr. be a
bundle of joys name And furthermore teach birds
and bees So won't be a nerd and burst herds of,
second and thirds of and "Dada" better
be the first words of Just kiddin', son'll be [need] a one man girl, spend a lot on what I be
wearin' Best of care, best that money can buy is
what he'll be wearin' With these weathers around,
protect him, they'll say in a cage I kept him
Though wage you kindergarten probably be another
major step and Lo and behold a star holdin', cuz
yo be loadin' trips and sowin' Ya knowin',
throwin' a fancy home for him to grow in "He's
kinda pleasin' to raise"... so baby say. No
thank you... ease in Sneezin', now what do I do
when he cry for no reason? Though any toy, he want
he get, yo kids it ain't worth it, midst the toys
That they destroy, annoy, though me and his moms
in middle of fits of joy and it's a boy, yo
Baby mom, under wing, though if dress up, could
string Line of cuties, though cling, don't wanna
mess up a good thing You know how it is when guys
that pay girls seem to hog us fiend and dog us,
scheme for more guts Goin into labor date, 18 of
August It's that time tellin' friends,
congratulate's yellin' Gonna be six weeks
premature, but thanks to God, he's doin' well And
givin' credit where it is due, while rap's
achievin' let it As for bills forget it, 'cause
the way I rap, don't even sweat it My own when me
and my hon son, don't fuss, agree Though son, I
still kinda wish I coulda been there when he was
born at 3:01 Bygone be gone, there's nowhere wrong
and all Your son's about and since I didn't and
this being the first You know I had to write a rap
about the incident And the rose is for the
squeeze, I would've sent a few no women with the
kin in it Wish us luck world as we enter a new
beginning And like I said, any toy, I'm tryin' to
tell ya that midst the toys That they destroy,
annoy, though me and his moms in middle of fits of
joy and it's a boy
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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