Man of the House
10/21, day after I turned 21
First LP, album released, again it begun
For the kid without a lid on his tongue
Who took a shit on the drums and slid out the slums
Ultimately I had an ultimatum
Smuggle drugs or become someone famous
Truth, I put in work in the booth
Way before Hannah saw her first tooth and poof
I blew up fo' both of us grew up
I tell ya times was rougher than nubuck, leather
Somehow I knew it wouldn't stay that way forever
Long as I showed effort
How could I possible say I'm good
Especially when my mama still in the hood
My father is unemployed
Despite the lack of dollars they're proud of their little boy
I doubt it would fill the void, in everybody's pockets
You'd probably get annoyed
That wasn't what I rapped for
First tour, Rav-4
Grabbed my baggage and I was off
Traveling abroad, had to see it all
Berlin wall, Taj Mahal
Felt I knew how to run 'for I knew how to crawl
Had a burden on my back, the planet on my shoulder
And one simple task, all I had to do was hold it
And I grow, and I grow, and I grow
To be the man of the house now baby
To be the man of the house now baby
And we grow, and we grow, and we grow, and we grow
To be the men of the house now baby
To be the men of the house now baby
Word to Madonna
My pops had never preached, furthest thing from the streets
He'd stay in, discrete
When he wasn't in the pen he was tryin' diss police
Tryna get a piece of pussy instead of tryna visit me
Damn, what a fatherly figure
When we met I was 15 and I hardly remember
Bitter, I was, admit, a tad bit
Spent 15 years wondering where dad went, fuck
Then a year, again he would disappear
Little did I know I had a little sister near
A few brothers that I never met
The world on my shoulders, only thing the nigga ever left
Dad you never made it home
How'd you make it to my pad?
And why am I paying for your cab?
I couldn't figure it out
Even as a young boy I was the man of the house
So, fuck
I guess I haven't blew up yet
According to your definition of success
I should be dicking a model
Driving a Bugatti instead of whipping in Tahoe
I know, I deserve a bigger amount
Counting every penny, cause every penny counts
Even when I made dollars it ain't make sense
Another journey for the journalist
And here we go
First LP, album released, again it begun
For the kid without a lid on his tongue
Who took a shit on the drums and slid out the slums
Ultimately I had an ultimatum
Smuggle drugs or become someone famous
Truth, I put in work in the booth
Way before Hannah saw her first tooth and poof
I blew up fo' both of us grew up
I tell ya times was rougher than nubuck, leather
Somehow I knew it wouldn't stay that way forever
Long as I showed effort
How could I possible say I'm good
Especially when my mama still in the hood
My father is unemployed
Despite the lack of dollars they're proud of their little boy
I doubt it would fill the void, in everybody's pockets
You'd probably get annoyed
That wasn't what I rapped for
First tour, Rav-4
Grabbed my baggage and I was off
Traveling abroad, had to see it all
Berlin wall, Taj Mahal
Felt I knew how to run 'for I knew how to crawl
Had a burden on my back, the planet on my shoulder
And one simple task, all I had to do was hold it
And I grow, and I grow, and I grow
To be the man of the house now baby
To be the man of the house now baby
And we grow, and we grow, and we grow, and we grow
To be the men of the house now baby
To be the men of the house now baby
Word to Madonna
My pops had never preached, furthest thing from the streets
He'd stay in, discrete
When he wasn't in the pen he was tryin' diss police
Tryna get a piece of pussy instead of tryna visit me
Damn, what a fatherly figure
When we met I was 15 and I hardly remember
Bitter, I was, admit, a tad bit
Spent 15 years wondering where dad went, fuck
Then a year, again he would disappear
Little did I know I had a little sister near
A few brothers that I never met
The world on my shoulders, only thing the nigga ever left
Dad you never made it home
How'd you make it to my pad?
And why am I paying for your cab?
I couldn't figure it out
Even as a young boy I was the man of the house
So, fuck
I guess I haven't blew up yet
According to your definition of success
I should be dicking a model
Driving a Bugatti instead of whipping in Tahoe
I know, I deserve a bigger amount
Counting every penny, cause every penny counts
Even when I made dollars it ain't make sense
Another journey for the journalist
And here we go
Credits
Writer(s): Vernon Wayne Rust
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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