The Joy

Add a little sugar, honey suckle lamb Great expression of happiness Boy, you could not miss with a dozen roses Such would astound you The joy of children laughing around you These are the makings of you I do it for the fore-fathers and the street authors That are not A&R's in the cheap office Rappers that never got signed but they keep offers Girls that's way too fine for us to keep off us Gave her a handshake only for my man's sake She in her birthday suit cause of the damn cake Now there's crumbs all over the damn place And she want me to cum all over her damn face I never understood planned parenthood Cause I never met nobody plan to be a parent in the hood Taking refills of that plan B pill Another shorty that won't make it to the family will If I don't make it, can't take it, hope the family will They ain't crazy they don't know how insanity feel Don C just had a shorty so it's not that bad But I still hear the ghosts of the kids I never had Add a little sugar, honey suckle lamb Great expression of happiness Boy, you could not miss with a dozen roses Such would astound you The joy of children laughing around you These are the makings of you No Electro, no metro, a little retro, I perfecto You know the demo, ya boy act wild You ain't get the memo, Yeezy's back in style Now when Rome go Gidget the other got Bridget What's more tripped out though is they sisters Nah, you ain't listen, they black, they sisters They momma, named them after white bitches No next time you see me on your fallopian Though the Jewerly's Egyptian, know the hunger's Ethiopian Stupid questions like "Is he gon' be dope again?" Have you seen him? Has anybody spoke to him? This beat deserves Hennessy, a bad bitch and a bag of weed, the Holy Trinity In the mirror where I see my only enemy Your life's cursed, well mine's an obscenity Add a little sugar, honey suckle lamb Great expression of happiness Boy, you could not miss with a dozen roses Such would astound you The joy of children laughing around you These are the makings of you This is my momma shit I used to hear this through the walls in the hood When I was back in my pajama shit Afro's and marijuana sticks, seeds and the ganja hat Will be popping like the sample that I'm rhyming with Pete Rock, let the needle drop I seen so much as a kid they surprised I don't needle pop Taking sips of pop, six packs of millanips Pink champel, Valentine L Bally's on my feet help me balance out well That and the shit I used to balance on the scale I got it honest from the parties from my momma's Virgin Mary's try to judge her, I'm like "where the Madonna's now?" Give all glory to Gloria, they said "you raised that boy too fast, But you was raising a warrior" We victorious, they'll never take the joy from us Keep you hands up, get mine up Don't let them take your fire Keep you hands up, get mine up Don't let them take your fire Keep you hands up, get mine up Don't let them take your fire Keep you hands up, get mine up It's Pete Rock, Kanye, one, two, okay It's Pete Rock, Kanye, one, two, okay It's Pete Rock, Kanye, one, two, okay It's Pete Rock, Kanye, one, two, okay