Topaz Jones
BABA 70s
[Chorus]
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba, ba, ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba, ba, ba

[Verse 1]
This grown man talkin’: "Don’t go tellin your momma
Don’t go runnin’ up in the house like you scared of a monster
Stick your chin up, go do some chin ups
You skinny, I hope she finna make spinach for dinner"
Under your skin like a splinter
At night I dream about living above the rim like a spinner
But chances I make the league
Is getting slimmer than a Jim, or Eminem, or Kendall Jenner
Rival of Pepsi spread all on her dresser
America, God Bless her
I’m like, “Sike, nah, F her” she ain’t ridе for me ever (Evеr, ever)
My grandmother survived in three eras
Now from Prospect Terrace to the top, I Tricera’d
Try me, I dare ya, super bad, Mike Cera, it's the Mic terror, (ooh child)
Yeah, I swear to God these n***as terrycloth, that mean very soft
You look sad, try therapy, or a glass of that liquid theraflu
But if I parachute, the kids will parakeet
As a teen figured all I needed was a pair of shoes, with a swoosh
'Nough to make a n***a bust his teeth ‘til they wiggle loose
But by the time I got em they was out of style
God got a sense of humor, learn how to smile
[Chorus]
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
(Smile Baby)
Ba-ba-ba, ba, ba, ba
(Ha ha ha, hoo, hoo, hoo, ha, ha ha)
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba, ba, ba

[Verse 2]
Ugh, this grown man talkin’, not for the faint of heart
This the ancient art of persuasion, the Maker's Mark on occasion
I played the part I was training for since training wheels
Got no platinums, but I’m stainless steel
The layers peeled and the fruit of my labor revealed
Labelled and sealed, uh
Lot of rats chasing a deal, they would’ve squealed, uh
Top of that, they wanna ask you how it feels
To leave the house behind, n***a, is you out your mind?
All the Aunt Jemima spilling, all that nonchalance is chilling
Y’all your pops and momma’s children
I promise you I’m feeling like the cream of the crop doesn’t top me
It’s really getting sloppy Joe, somebody stop me
The bomb like sake bro, this Nagasaki flow
I’ll beat the horse if the jockeys don’t
I could kick it but that’s not the goal, I want control
For the folks counting crows ‘til the block gets sold
Man this shit is bananas, no it’s platanos
Was still a seed when the plot exposed, but I was told
To watch those who play blind with eyes closed
I could see it all now that I’m grown
[Chorus]
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba, ba, ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba, ba, ba