Ms. Johnson Songtext
von Foggieraw

Baby doll, I had to block you on Instagram, you kept postin′ pictures of your new man and man
I ain't tryna rekindle our love affair once again, but help me understand
You got with this nigga two weeks after me, you could at least act like you give a damn, I mean damn
I would′ve protected your pretty brown skin from anything, even the Ku Klux Klan
I know you watchin' your figure if you wanted a cheat day I would've took you to Aunt Anne′s
What the hell could′ve changed so drastically for you and me in a two month span?
You like my baby, my Mercedes, my lady, most important you my friend
Most things come to an end, but we could've came to a comma
Matter of fact, where′s your mama?
You know your momma love me, what's your mama sayin′?
You know your poppa trust me, what's your poppa sayin′? You know-


Ms. Johnson, did you know your daughter was runnin' around datin' a short nigga from Wisconsin?
Now I don′t got nothin′ against short niggas, but hmm
Ms. Johnson, at least I'm tall
At least I can teach our kids how to ball like Tristan Thompson
And I′ll teach 'em all of my player ways, you know my good ones not my bad ones
I gotta step up and be a father ′cause it get wicked when you don't have one
Wonder what type of dad I′d be, would I be this one? Would I be that one?
I'd be like LeBron James jumpin', screamin′ at all the games, yeah, I′d be that one
Yeah, I'd be that one
Sorry, I gotta go
Sorry, Ms. Johnson