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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.
0
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 6:12 PM UTC
Prodigal son
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
Wordsmith
Written by
Wordsmith
31/M/Ogbomoso, Oyo, Nigeria
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 6:12 PM UTC
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