Ms. Johnson

Baby doll, I had to block you on Instagram, you kept postin' pictures of your new man and man

I ain't tryna rekindle our love affair once again, but help me understand

You got with this **** two weeks after me, you could at least act like you give a damn, I mean damn

I would've protected your pretty brown skin from anything, even the Ku Klux Klan

I know you watchin' your figure if you wanted a cheat day I would've took you to Aunt Anne's

What the hell could've changed so drastically for you and me in a two month span?

You like my baby, my Mercedes, my lady, most important you my friend

Most things come to an end, but we could've came to a comma

Matter of fact, where's your mama?

You know your momma love me, what's your mama sayin'?

You know your poppa trust me, what's your poppa sayin'? You know-

Ms. Johnson, did you know your daughter was runnin' around datin' a short **** from Wisconsin?

Now I don't got nothin' against short ****, but hmm

Ms. Johnson, at least I'm tall

At least I can teach our kids how to ball like Tristan Thompson

And I'll teach 'em all of my player ways, you know my good ones not my bad ones

I gotta step up and be a father 'cause it get wicked when you don't have one

Wonder what type of dad I'd be, would I be this one? Would I be that one?

I'd be like LeBron James jumpin', screamin' at all the games, yeah, I'd be that one

Yeah, I'd be that one

Sorry, I gotta go

Sorry, Ms. Johnson