Testi:
Mother Mother Little Hands

the time Little face, little feet, little hands in my brain Driving me insane Driving me insane Little face, little feet, little hands not around No more little sounds No more little

the time Little face, little feet, little hands in my brain Driving me insane Driving me insane Little face, little feet, little hands not around No more little sounds No more little

yeah, cause I'm the funky lil brotha [CHORUS] (I'm just your funky lil brotha) Cause I'm the funky little - brotha (I'm just your funky lil brotha) Cause I'm the funky little

Little somethin for my godson Elijah and a little girl named Corinne Verse One: Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice I say the darker

your buffer. But I'll just buck then bigger motha fuckas. Turnin men to suckas. Niggas wanna start a little ruckus. Better duck cuz I'll be poundin them motha fuckas. They wanna throw their hands

Little somethin for my godson Elijah and a little girl named Corinne [Verse One:] Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice I say the darker

call the cops For a rap cat, shot dead in the back Over a dame, for some reason of which I cannot explain My name was little known at this time 'less

Cole no no Nat no no Nat no no Nat King Cole, baby, your giving birth to a jealous lover, baby the situation is out of your hands momma, a funny little

the fuel tank of a saucer Buddy up and head down to the metal corporate tunnels Ice pick the soldered ship wiring; pissed of the mother and um I'd be