Crybaby Lyrics

Crybaby lyrics

I was born in 71' in Kansas City, MO

my momma was a heavenly one, so the
fam was pretty slow

when it came to rap and R&B and plenty more

check it, if it wasn't on gospel, apostle

or written in the Bible, then
it go

So when they tell the baby don't do something then I end up doing it
anyway

like, don't listen to rap, it's the evil music of today

but,
I really fell in love with the sound that was coming out form the East
Coast

So we got it and twisted it up a bit, now the industry's having a
heatstroke

Some say that rap is dead, but when I get the white, black,
and red

and jump on the tour bus, do 58 shows, then I'm back with a big
black sack of bread

Can't believe that that was said, cause I'm here with
a stack of fed

and I got it from rap/hip-hop or whatever and I did not
have to beg

So, here I stand, the mic in hand with my rap attire

and I like my fans spending grands cause we got the fire

I merchandise
like 5 G's every half an hour

and you cry like a baby so your mic must be
your pacifier



When I read the magazine, them rapper's sounding
like

WAH WAH WAH (Crybaby)

When I see them on the TV, them rapper's
sounding like

WAH WAH WAH (Whatcha crying bout?)

[x2]



If it's negative, I don't wanna hear it

eliminating player haters with
their evil spirits



I hear em talkin, they mad at Smurf and Souljah
Boy

They hating big in the magazine, and dont even know the boys

I
know the ploy, washed up rappers wanna attack people

Run up to the car,
pull out the mac lethal

Man that's a problem with the black people
now

What ya need to know is that, in the world there's a lot of dough to
stack

And the ones that wanna hold us back ain't been outside they
cul-de-sac

Every nigga I know is strapped, rip shows that'll blow ya
back

But notice that, I can put it right down to where the shoulders
at

Hating on the south? Why? Trippin off them chips they got

You
don't like that it's screwed and chopped

but you wanna get off in they
pot

Wanna be MC you talk a lot, up in the spot and you hot

Cause
they 84's be poking out

What the hell is you cryin bout?

Everybody
wanna be killa but not for reala

bout the method of making money you
gotta get the milla

by doin it like I do it do the work and believe in
it

when you do it to the fullest aint no problem achieving it

When
I was broke, homie I went for mills

Got on the mic with the intent to
kill

Stronger than ever, and you a gimp for real

I drink caribou
lou, and you drink enfamil CHUMP



When I read the magazine, them
rapper's sounding like

WAH WAH WAH (Crybaby)

When I see them on the
TV, them rapper's sounding like

WAH WAH WAH (Whatcha crying bout?)

[x2]



You should be clapping when folk make it up outta the
ghetto

or trailer park, it don't matter even if he black or if he
guerro

but, you don't know how to be male

instead of a Timberland,
you probably in a stilletto

better yet in a baby shoe, jealous or maybe
you

sick of me cause I'm making dinero

and you dont wanna get
clapped at

you want a standing ovation? I thought not!

you say you
better than rappers on radio, man that's false chop

try to run up on me,
cause a benzo will never be in your car slot

try to step up on the scene,
my infra-red beam's right at your soft spot

if you was on TV and balling
you wouldn't groan and trip

he'd keep hatred, envy, and bloodshed on his
lip

Tech got long cream with chrome things on his whip

?? with a
chrome thing on his hip

but just know your hip will not stop the hop

cause when you look at the big picture, my block pops alot daily

so
keep on thinking my clock stops the shots

and I can quickly bury you in
your Osh Kosh B'Gosh, baby



When I read the magazine, them rapper's
sounding like

WAH WAH WAH (Crybaby)

When I see them on the TV, them
rapper's sounding like

WAH WAH WAH (Whatcha crying bout?)

[x2]