Send Ya Fa Mama

Yeah, man
This for the nine-trey, uh

Lil brothers rollin' deep after dark
Fourteen young bucks standin' in the park
They blockin' the gate, but they best to make way
'Cause I'm kinda sick and I ain't in the mood to play
I asked 'em one time if they'd let a brother cut through
But the biggest trick out the crew screamed out, "What's up?"
What's up? What's up, punk? What's the tip?
You better keep still before you get your little ass whipped
Gaffled, mark, your mother picked one hand deep
Told me he would whoop me if I stepped into the street

I let that nonsense slide
'Cause all of 'em young bucks, man, ain't nann one of 'em my size

But if they was, I'd drill 'em
Since they little, I'ma chill before I kill 'em
If I hit 'em, I'ma hit 'em with a dose of this drama

Get on with that nonsense, fool, before I send you
For your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool, 'fore I send you
For your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool, 'fore I send you
For your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool, 'fore I send you
For your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool

In school, I got problems
Every girl I like seems to think I wanna rob 'em
I try to fit in, fix my hat and my sack
But when I roll up, they jack ass to they class
So I stay in the hallway sparkin' up a Swisher
Headphones bumpin', jammin' Mr. Mister

Just to get away from these busted up kids
'Cause ain't no marks like this 'round the crib
Uh, and I'm breakin', ain't jack shakin'
Sittin' in the hall, can't make a brother nathan
So I'm down the hallway, I'm out the front door
I'm down the school stairs, I'm at the front store

I gotta sit, still tryna get my buzz on

Marks walkin' up, talkin' 'bout, "Leave the drugs on"
Fool, mind yours, plus take a bird
Before you get your shit shaked, short, you ain't heard?
Never flex around with the real meal
Fool, from the Winterville, 'cause he will send you

For your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool, 'fore I send you
For your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool

Layin' back in the yard, tryna come up with a plot

How to make ends without dealin' with the marks
Then it finally hit me like a roosie bang
With all kinda grip, dudes be havin' in they backpack
Back to the school zone, gotta get my move on
'Fore them kids catch me tryna get up for they grip

Fillin' up my jack sack with stuff out of they backpack
And then like three, two, I'm outta this

But the funk up, somebody caught me in the act

Claimin' they gonna rat if I don't put it back
So smack is what a snitch get for jumpin' in my business
So if you don't watch your lips, then
I suggest you let a little brother make tracks
Before you get it on your forehead
'Cause that's where I'm aimin' at
I won't shoot ya, but I'ma
Beat you down with the pistol grip, you little mark

And I'ma send you for your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool, 'fore I send you
For your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool, 'fore I send you
For your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool, 'fore I send you
For your mama, for your mama
Get on with that nonsense, fool, 'fore I send you
For your mama, for your mama

Get on with that nonsense, fool, 'fore I send you
For your mama, for your mama