Music Video

Meek Mill - Oodles O'Noodles Babies [Official Video]
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Meek Mill
Meek Mill
Vocals
Mother's Finest
Mother's Finest
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Antonio Jimenez
Antonio Jimenez
Songwriter
Skip Scarborough
Skip Scarborough
Songwriter
Robert Rihmeek Williams
Robert Rihmeek Williams
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
James "Jayme Be" Belt
James "Jayme Be" Belt
Engineer
William "Bilz" Dougan
William "Bilz" Dougan
Engineer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Gimel "Young Guru" Keaton
Gimel "Young Guru" Keaton
Mixing Engineer
Butterbeats
Butterbeats
Producer
Anthony Cruz
Anthony Cruz
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

This shit right here for my oodles o' noodles babies His ma'smoked the crack while she was pregnant so he can't even help that he crazy He goin' to jail was inevitable, forreal Ain't have nobody to give me no hope I hope my momma ain't doin' no coke I used to wish that my daddy was livin' I had a dream that I seen him a ghost I used to act up when I went to school Thought it was school, but I really was hurt Wanted my family to come to my games My mama couldn't make it 'cause she was at work Remember, my grandmomma, she took me to church Really tho', I ain't wanna go Remember, I kissed aunt in the casket And her forehead was cold I was like 4 years old We couldn't afford no clothes It was hand me down, who would think a nigga get a Grammy now? Got a black judge tryna tear me down All this jail time probably wear me down Turn the lights off in the bathroom Screaming, "Bloody, Bloody, Bloody Mary" now Havin' nightmares about Candyman With the tool on me, like a handyman Killed my lil' cousin, I'm like, "Damn it, man" Had to see the footage on the camera, man On the pavement, with his brains out With the white sheet, he was laid out Wanna ask 'Ye, "Is this a choice?" Shit was like this, when I came out What the fuck is you really complaining 'bout? I know niggas that's never gon' make it out This that shit you won't see in the media Poor gettin' poorer and the rich gettin' greedier Lot of daddies goin' back and forth out of jail Lot of sons growin' up and repeating it This the belly of the beast, you won't make it out Man, this shit was designed just to eat us up And my momma told, "Nigga, keep it up You gon' end up in prison, just sweepin' up" Remember, nobody never believed in us When they see us now, they can't believe it's us, no I think it's funny how We used to go to school, play SEGA's And then, next thing you know, you runnin' 'round with Glock .40s We ain't never believed in the police, they was shootin' us Yeah, they called it the projects They put us in projects What they gon' do with us? Can't call the cops yet You might just get popped at 'Cause they the ones shootin' us I'm on my mom's steps It's like a bomb threat The violence pursuing us, I ain't meet God yet 'Cause I'm on the block where It's just me and Lucifer, look what they do to us They know we in poverty When I went to court, the judge said, "Meek, you a menace to society" Huh, you said, you'd give me a chance, your honor, why would you lie to me? 16 more years on probation, you know you gon' get more time on me, huh Whole hood goin' crazy, babies havin' babies She was fourteen, actin' like she eighteen Got pregnant by a nigga that was locked up in them cages And the story goes on, if you make it, you amazing (Word up) See, I got homie that's a billionaire And I be tryin' to explain to him like If your mom ain't on crack or if she got a job and she doing eight hours a day And your daddy in the graveyard or in the jail cell, who the fuck gon' babysit?
Writer(s): Skip Scarborough, Antonio Jimenez, Robert Rihmeek Williams Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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