Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Mama’ by 6ix9ine. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 6ix9ine or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Uh
Murda on the beat so it’s not nice!
Tiki Taki, Spanish mami, she a hot tamale (hot)
Make ’em spend that money, dummy, go retarded for me (pop it)
Pop it, pop it, she get started, she won’t ever stop it
Little thottie, got her rowdy, choosing everybody
Splish, splash, Apple Bottoms make that ass fat
She got that wet wet, got me blowing through this whole bag (bag)
She got Bs, spend some cheese, now they double Ds
Thought I had to free, kick her out, my mama coming home at three
Ho thicker-thicker-thicker than a fuckin’ Snicker
Drug dealer, professional pot whipper
In the winter, buy your ho a chinchilla (Grrr)
I just bought my bitch them Kylie Jenner lip fillers
Man, oh my God
She Instagram famous but she can’t keep a job, ooh
Man, oh my God
Swipe her 30-inch weave on her sugar daddy card, ooh
Man, oh my God
Her doctor got her busting out her motherfuckin’ bra, mm
Man, oh my God
She Uber to a nigga with no car
Talking about the relish, I do not embellish
Jacket got wings, True’s got propellers
Gave all my old Margielas to my boy Marcellas
Pulled up with no laces, had the whole block jealous
Oh, Jesus Christ, I don’t need advice
Wild nigga life, tell ’em, “Read my rights”
Man it hot tonight, look out with my ice
Fifteen in the game, baby girl, I got stripes (man)
Ka-Ka-Kanye dressed me up like a doll
Then I hit 6ix9ine, tell him give me the ball
Bitch, this the dream team, magic as I recall
Whole squad on point, bunch of Chris Pauls (Chris Pauls)
I was out in Spain, rockin’ a Medusa head
I ain’t never have to give a rap producer head
If I do though, I’ma write a book like Supahead
This ain’t Wonder that I’m making, this that super bread
Splish, splash, f*ck him in a hurry, quick, fast
Still a pink wig, thick ass, whiplash
Got him cummin’, cummin’, Roger, over, dispatch
Said my box is the best, he met his match
I got all these bitches wantin’ to be Barbie dolls
Barbie dreamhouse, pink and purple marble walls
P-pull up in that Barbie ‘Rari, finna bury y’all
She threw dirt on my name, ended up at her own burial
Kanye dressed me up like a doll
Then I hit 6ix9ine, tell him give me the ball
Bitch, this the dream team, magic as I recall
Whole squad on point, bunch of Chris Pauls
Ka-Ka-Kanye dressed me up like a doll
Then I hit 6ix9ine, tell him give me the ball
Bitch, this the dream team, Fif’ is on call
Whole squad on point, bunch of Chris Pauls (Chris Pauls)
Tiki Taki, Spanish mami, she a hot tamale (hot)
Make ’em spend that money, dummy, go retarded for me (pop it)
Pop it, pop it, she get started, she won’t ever stop it
Little thottie, got her rowdy, choosing everybody