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chopped parsley // raise ur kids - j'von lyrics

[intro]
how in the f*ck do you do triple life? i mean that means if he die and come back, he got to go to penitentiary!

[verse 1]
we ain’t gonna talk about the dough i needed (dough i kneaded)
(that’s, that’s too good)
that was such a bar a n*gga won’t even peep it
j’von a.k.a. “the best kept secret”
never won but was undefeated at least once they see it
(once they see it)
was as nice as it seems, it was like a pipe dream (what else?)
to the detriment of self i always did the right thing (what else?)
time reveals all just like a woman in tight jeans
it’s not as nice as the sight seam/seem
wasn’t with the acting and i don’t think i got the right scene
trying to hip my daughter to mexican food
but she be only messing with the rice and beans (man bro)
and my other daughter t**thing, t**th
i’m sure when she’s done she’ll eat a lot
money was needed a lot, he was even in the odds
why these duck ass weird n*ggas receded from the plot?
and i ain’t have to convince shorty she needed what i got
and every time she get to busting it open i’m seeing god
the green was a mirage (what else?)
economy went downhill, they cling to the facade
still i’m letting the phone ring and you won’t even get a nod, n*gga
no approvals
couldn’t put you on game you refuse to google
that’s why n*ggas sit from the shake and naan ’bout it, frugal
[chorus]
you better raise your kids
yeah i ain’t got time for a deadbeat homie
funny n*ggas raise your kids (raise your kids!)
some things you really gotta let be, homie
you better raise your kids
yeah i ain’t got time for no deadbeats homie
i ain’t got time
i ain’t got time
whose got time?

[verse 2]
i see it well (very well)
brother the espresso machine it needed me as well (very well)
made some art that didn’t sell i ain’t see it as a fail (not at all)
time was on my team and i can read it as it tells
ran dry see you was greedy at the well, as well
there was stones to the glass house, n*ggas egos was frail
they wouldn’t feel me if they was reading it in braille (wha)
when he writes it’s as mean as a means is for a mil
your defense was a sh*ll
shorty with the attitude, a pot of oxtail stew on the weekend was a spell
deep stroking the beef it was dispelled
made to amaze anybody
baby i ain’t just anybody
i ain’t got too many bodies
but if you ever laughed at a joke then girl that’s a mini*body
i’m good the body like an antibody
on your mom’s sis i could probably body your auntie body
that go for any body
shorty from new england asking anybody and everybody…
chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill
just let it go, let it go
that’s enough rap, bring in the little harmony thing
[chorus]
you better raise your kids
yeah i ain’t got time for a deadbeat homie
funny n*ggas raise your kids (raise your kids!)
some things you really gotta let be, homie
you better raise your kids
yeah i ain’t got time for no deadbeats homie
i ain’t got time
i ain’t got time
whose got time?

- jvon lyrics

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