Lyrics Dom Kennedy

Dom Kennedy

Daddy

She keep talkin' 'bout gettin' plastic surgery, I really hope she don't

And I wish I was the type that really enjoyed writin' the notes

Video wit' Quik and Suga Free, but that wasn't no boat

Them yachts out in Newport, tell me, 'Who on your boat?'

While niggas lie about it, my soul girls cry about it

I'm not a member of Black Hippy, but I recognize higher power

You could eat pickles that's sour and sit in L.A. for hours

And you still wouldn't know what it felt like back in '91

And at 3:25, that's when my pops known to drive

Somebody said I should look for a house out in Oceanside

I'm from OPM, baby, got to get that straight

So you know it turn me on, I see her fix my plate

Told her, 'Look at the album cover if you ever miss my face'

I hope I'm on that shit like Eric B. and Rakim, sucker

Her mom said, 'Cut that song, uh, yeah, that is bumpin''

'Bout time you found somebody out here

That's really sayin' somethin'

I think I'm addicted to dippin' down Normandie

This could've been distributed by Priority

Instead we keepin' all the royalties

I stopped wearin' chains cause niggas' shit lookin' foily

And I heard what Chris Brown said, but I dick her down loyally

I have to interrupt, lookin' at your spoiled butt

Only raised by women, so you got waist and rhythms

To get my attention through a dashboard

Why you think little teenage boys always crash more?

Lookin' at the new 11s, thinkin' 'bout gettin' cash

Or waitin' on hoes to start shakin' that ass more

I never been the guy in France, but I made movies in my block

L.A. New Era hat and Shawn Stussy

Aw, fuck it, I can't tell y'all shit, except, 'Get to it'

Gangsters used to wear nice shirts and drive big Buicks

Now this nigga on the Internet tryin' to pitch music

Nobody want to hear that shit