Hollywood
Yg
3:01I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma Always got somethin' to say, every time she don't get her way Your whole life I done paid, with me, you had better days All them bags I brought you, it's a shame How the fuck you find time to still complain? Questionin' why I'm coming home late Bitch, I put all the food on the plate Yeah, she stay bitchin' I'm like, "Shut the fuck up and clean the kitchen" Love her from a distance We talk crazy to each other, that's part of our relation Tellin' your friends my business, you hella chatty You let my daughter leave with her hair nappy I still do everything to make you happy You talk down on baby daddy I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma Always poppin' up with new friends That's the type of shit I ain't in Tellin' me how to spend my ends But you tellin' me you want the new Benz If I call you out your name, that's a sin If you touch me, bitch, that's where it ends I'm tellin' you we need a cleanse I'm tellin' you but you don't comprehend No good, burnt out from the hood Moved you to the Valley like a real nigga should My kids good, how they live, good They don't eat pork, no pig, good You supposed to be a nigga ribs Can't no other nigga call dibs If I'm payin' for the crib Don't have another nigga 'round my kids I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma (I hate my baby momma, I hate my) I hate my baby momma Always got something to say (always got something to say) With me, you had better days (with me, you had better days) Questionin' why I'm coming home late (questionin' why I'm coming home late) Bitch, I, bitch, I put all the food on the plate (bitch, I put all the food on the plate) I hate my baby momma