Hey baby, how you doin? whats goin on?
Im sittin in my motherfuckin cell, its the same song
Tell my kids that I love em but dont tell em that Im thru
Keep cryin and tell em Ill be home soon
Oh baby Im goin crazy
Cos I keep seein shit that amaze me
Still I had to kill a motherfucker last week
He thought I was a punk and tried to creep up on me in my sleep
I just think that I could hold or squeeze or touch or buck ya
But I cant, so fuck it
Ima behind these bars and its burnin like nitro
I might go psycho, the man on the tower got a rifle
Aw shit, there the lights go....
*phone ringing*
(hello)
Chorus: leshaun
Mama, Im in love wit a gangsta (damn)
Mama, Im in love wit a gangsta (yknow)
Mama, Im in love wit a gangsta and I know hes a killer
But I love dat nigga
Bridge: leshaun
Hey ba-by
Whats happenin honey?
How you doin?
I miss you
Verse 2: leshaun
The kids keep askin wheres their papa?
I had to tell em daddy got caught by the coppers
Its time for me to raise em up proper by myself
Its a goddamn struggle when a bitch aint got no help
Now everybody tellin me that you aint shit black
And when you get out, youll jack and probably go right the fuck back
Damn, the pressures gettin hot and heavy
And yeah, Im gettin sweated by your homey in the blue and white chevy
But now hes got a condo and a brand new lexus
Wants me to take a trip with him down to texas
The ends dont justify the means
And in another life he mightve been the man of my dreams
But you know I got your back to the motherfuckin end
But a bitch cant even trip like she doent have a friend
Chorus
Interlude:
(hello, you have a collect call from...)
Coolio!
(if you choose to accept this call please press 5 now)
*number dialed*
Verse 3: coolio
What the fuck you mean you need a friend?
I cant be havin no niggas round my kids
Dont you make me break up outta this motherfucker
And start killin motherfuckers, shit!
I know its rough, I know its tough
But when you fumble in the game sometimes you get locked up
You better stay away punk ass bitch, he aint shit
I dont wanna have to kill him
Cos think about the times that we used to have
Dont make me reach out and touch that ass
You put yourself in danger when you fuck with a buster
Like shootin dice without a pistol in a circle of murderers
You got more class than the average-type hooker bitch
Dont switch, he gotta grip but he aint rich
Now I gotta check but if youve got the cheque
Give a nigga a look and put somethin on my books
Peace
Chorus
Verse 4: leshaun
Aiyo remember the homey with the lexus, he took the trip to texas
Now hes wearin the fuckin lexus like a necklace
So tell me, whats the drill, baby pa? whats a bitch to do?
My niggas stretched in the pen since 92
Them visits aint doin the trick, drop fucks make me sick
Cos this po puddy-tat needs a cat nip
And that motherfucker representin you, I think he resents you
He got evidence he never presents to
The people in court, I heard witnesses abortin
Whats he doin about gettin you out to hold the fort?
I got some ends, ima send you a dime and two doves
Mama hates you but damn I got love for a gangsta
Chorus to fade