You panted the seeds & now u too dry to even water em
Hangin out in da hood & u too busy to father em
How dare you stand there & fake like u keep all real
Ridin in whips, takin trips when your babies are ill
Your a loser who chooses to be a dead beat dad
So quick to challenge my motives, when you kno why I'm mad
Football games, spelling tests, lookin just like yo ass
Christmas & birthdays done gone & they done flew on passed
So sick of lyin to shorty sayin daddy will come
Starin out the window tears droppin cuz it's already 1 (am)
Wont hurt to call not to holla at me but call for him
Could'nt touch my shit with 10 ft pole ever again
So stop your frontin & that bitch u got is triflin too
Cuz if he cant love his kids then he definately aint true
Women to women what make u think u got u a MAN
His baby crying & holdin him aint even his PLAN
(Grow up my nigga. He gone be straight with or without u but just know that when u decide to find yourself, he gone look at you, laugh and say "MAMA'S BABY! DADDY WHEN?")
P.S.
Much love to all the real fathers out there that's handlin business!!!
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