I'm the prodigal son
Born with a gold-silver spoon
Mummy said when I was born
She was on her caramel top
Showing her Rïchïë stunt off
They call me the prodigal son
Platonically coz
I'm Sardonically born
By the gold-digger mom
Now, I'll tell you more
Of how this prodigal son
was practically born
to this satanical world
Yea, papa was a ****
Mama was a flirt
Then my mama gave birth
to this diamond in the ruff
Father is a political don
A strict guy to the core
I know...and
He knows that
I don't give a ****
Whether he's a don or not
When I was young
He used to be my hero,
All night long
He used to be my pillow
All that has gone
Now, he's my all time foe
Enough of his
What about me
Am I suppose to fall?
By another man flaws
I'm less of a greed
More of a bandit
Yea, I'm that thrifty one
Tagged filthy boy
I grew up a fatherless son
in a slum
not far from the north
I'm the prodigal child
Living life
With my cynical pride
Flaunting my dad riches
Oh! What a *****... I'm.
****, growing up was tough
Papa wasn't home
Mama got issue of her own
So I was left alone
Cold
in another family flow
As if that's not enough
Heavens know better; that
I smoke more than a weeder
Come visit my villa
It's more like a smoky lounge
Yea, call me the prodigal son
I'm rough and I'm bad
I'm different from them herd
I laugh when I'm sad
Coz my tears' ******* dry
I'm not done yet
I be the Casanova lad
My promiscuous act
Is topping the chart
They can't get enough of me
Em silly-dumb girls.
I'm that prodigal ****
That your papa doesn't want
That your mama warn you of
Okay now, run, little boy
Or your head 's getting hurt
But, to be honest
All these...
Doesn't behoove my parent
And this's
My mood of regret; please
Forgive and wish me the best.
Combo work from Wordsmith and Radioboi