Momma Working - Dave East

Everything in the bag nigga, everything man

Bag all this shit up

My moms coming home at like 11 B, we gotta get the fuck up out of here

We can’t be here when moms come in the crib, my nigga.

Word

Yo, this shit depressing, 3 to 6 for Smith and Wesson

On Ryker’s Island

Them hoes was telling get their best friends, they need protection

I seen the D’s, they played the roof out

It’s time to move out, the block hot, don’t bring the Coop out

I’m in the new shit, Balenciaga and a blue fit

We throwing parties, these bitches swimming got the pool lit

I bagged up eight balls over green, no need for pool sticks

I’m sick of Chinese, close up shop, let’s head to Ruth’s Chris

Connect Jamaican, I’m the reason for that last breath you taking

And fuck this paper, we throw it like we just graduated

Started in a Pathfinder, then I had to navigate it

We ain’t had much, my uncle said «Use your imagination»

Took it and ran with it, pieces out the pot let the fan hit it

Sit 'em on the plate and get the gram chipping

I ain’t feeling these niggas, it’s like my hand’s missing

My man’s switching but fuck it, I guess we ran different

Hand to hand pitching, Deegan or we Van Wyck’in

West side of FDR, never bag, I rarely borrow

Thoughts of running up in houses like the mask of Zoro

I had to go pick up some paper, I’ll be back tomorrow

Bagging up, knocking the purple tape

Outside all night, my moms was working late

I gotta go get it because it hurt to wait

I don’t talk about much, some shit it hurt to say

Bagging up, knocking the purple tape

Outside all night, my moms was working late

I gotta go get it because it hurt to wait

I don’t talk about much, some shit it hurt to say

I paid 50 for the smoke pack, 40 for that brown bitch

I’m bout to make the town flip, I’m always where they smoke at

Three dykes drinking in a school zone, a couple hammers

Young dirty ghetto children, we ain’t had no fuckin' manners

I love my grandma, that’s my mother twin

Couldn’t shit for days, eating that cheese from the government

Talk clear round here papi, no time for stuttering

Fiends like I just can not believe it’s not buttering

Stuttering, went back to basics

Xannies had me trapped in the matrix

When my mother told me you have to make it just for brother’s sake

If you sell crack, what you think he goin' sell

If you go to jail, where you think he goin', focus up

Still bagging burner tips, pull-up bar, work the dips

I had to work the bench before I got my starting spot

Straight out of Harlem like Suge Knight for that parking spot

Knocking Biggie, wish I could talk to Pac, get off the block

Bagging up, knocking the purple tape

Outside all night, my moms was working late

I gotta go get it because it hurt to wait

I don’t talk about much, some shit it hurt to say

Bagging up, knocking the purple tape

Outside all night, my moms was working late

I gotta go get it because it hurt to wait

I don’t talk about much, some shit it hurt to say