My Mama Thinks I'm Crazy - Saigon, Curbside Hustle

Uh, uh, uh

Truth or dare, who should care, Lucifer’s near, proof is there

Either your gun is a souvenir, or you use it, yeah

When you use it you face the music, prison you lose it there

How could you compare?

Niggaz is 20 and they losin hair

Mama said «Brian, I hate to say this shit but I don’t be lyin

The way you livin I only picture you dyin»

And though I’m defiant, I know the reason why she droppin the science

Know why that’s what she implyin, I know why she cryin

My mama thinks I’m crazy (damn, my mama think I’m crazy)

My mama thinks I’m craaaaazy

Two to the one, I get a gun, you get a gun, do it for fun

Mama not believin there’s reasons niggaz’ll shoot at her son

She know I sell smoke but don’t know that I’m movin a ton

Hard to find a job, yeah, at least not a lucrative one

One of your dude’s niggaz gettin money that’s much younger than you

You catch hustle fever, your temperature’s like 102

'Stead of goin to see the doc, you goin to see 'Pac

Pop was short for popular, gotta supply the B rock

She wrote me when I was in C block

My mama thinks I’m crazy (my mama think I’m crazy)

My mama thinks I’m crazy (uhh, my mama think I’m crazy)

My mama thinks I’m craaaaazy

My mama checkin in my bedroom but I ain’t there

I left a note that said «Life ain’t fair"(life ain’t fair)

I came back and seen a note that said «I ain’t care

Yeah motherfucker, life ain’t fair, I let you live here»

The struggles of a single black woman raisin a man

That and poverty obviously go hand in hand

Damn!

My mama think I’m crazy

The funny thing she been thinkin this since I was a baby

Well if I’m crazy then I’m prayin that father can save me

Cause my mama?

My mama?

MY MAMA?

Man, listen

My mama thinks I’m crazy (my mama think I’m crazy)

But she don’t know a thiiiiiiing

(My damn mama thinks I’m crazy, uh, uh-huh)

(How real is, this?)

My mama thinks I’m craaaaaaazyyyy