Nineteen seventy somethin' nikka I don't sweat the date

My moms is late so I had to plan my escape
Out the skins in this world of fly girls

Tanqueray and Hennessy until I cold hurl
Ten months in this gut what the fukk

I wish moms'd hurry up so I could get buck
wild juvenile rippin' mics and shyt
New York New York ready for the likes of this uh

Then came the worst date May 21st
2:19, that's when my momma water burst
No spouse in the house so she rode for self

to the hospital, to see if she could get a little help
Umbilical cord's wrapped around my neck

I'm seein' my death and I ain't even took my first step

I made it out, I'm bringin' mad joy

The doctor looked and said, "He's gonna be a Bad Boy"