Interlude (Mama) Songtext
von Chillinit
Interlude (Mama) Songtext
Dear Mama
Dear Mama
Shit
Nah, real talk
Check, check
Ma, I know you′re hurtin' and it′s burnin' you inside
The way your son is workin', you were certain I could die
Drownin′ in the drugs while I be searchin′ for the high
Mama's askin′ why I'm comin′ home with circles 'round my eyes
I said, "Mama, I′m just tired", Mama, that's a lie
Lately, I've been questionin′ if someone′s in the sky
'Cause every time I pray, Mama, no one gon′ reply
You told me keep the faith, Ma, I wonder if you lied
And now I'm gettin′ high, party limousines
Now it's fiddy G′s in my Balenciaga jeans
Now we eatin' pasta at a classier cuisines
Mama, half of this for you, but, Mama, half of this for me
I'm still havin′ dreams about the father I should be
I left my fuckin′ fam for these Rihannas on the beach
And now I think the devil made a casket just for me
I don't really know if I should laugh or I should scream
Fuck
Let it breathe for a bit
This that interlude shit, we all need peace, man
Mum, fuck, you′re the MVP
I can't say it enough
I′m losin' my voice from smokin′, I need to chill
Shit
Dear Mama
Shit
Nah, real talk
Check, check
Ma, I know you′re hurtin' and it′s burnin' you inside
The way your son is workin', you were certain I could die
Drownin′ in the drugs while I be searchin′ for the high
Mama's askin′ why I'm comin′ home with circles 'round my eyes
I said, "Mama, I′m just tired", Mama, that's a lie
Lately, I've been questionin′ if someone′s in the sky
'Cause every time I pray, Mama, no one gon′ reply
You told me keep the faith, Ma, I wonder if you lied
And now I'm gettin′ high, party limousines
Now it's fiddy G′s in my Balenciaga jeans
Now we eatin' pasta at a classier cuisines
Mama, half of this for you, but, Mama, half of this for me
I'm still havin′ dreams about the father I should be
I left my fuckin′ fam for these Rihannas on the beach
And now I think the devil made a casket just for me
I don't really know if I should laugh or I should scream
Fuck
Let it breathe for a bit
This that interlude shit, we all need peace, man
Mum, fuck, you′re the MVP
I can't say it enough
I′m losin' my voice from smokin′, I need to chill
Shit
Writer(s): Blake James Turnell, Mark J. Lombardo Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

