Mama's Last Nerve

Everybody in this room
Has heard the tale
Of a body part
Owned by older females.

It ain't got nothing to do
With reproduction or curves,
But we all know it as
Mama's last good nerve.

We done all had our triflin' asses on it
At least once in our lives,
And we got stabbed with that look
That cut worse than knives.

And we were given two seconds
To get the hell out her face,
But yet the speed of light wasn't fast enough
To give her her space.

She'd be saying stuff like,
'Uhn huh, keep letting out them sighs,
I'ma beat your lil' ass,
Keep rolling your eyes.'

There was no time out,
But your time might've been up.
You was out of your mind,
And shit outta luck.

You had fifty-leven chances
To get your act and your shit together
'Fo she introduced your triflin' ass
To a switch or piece of leather.

Cause she brought you here,
And she could take your ass out.
It didn't do you no good
To beg, cry or pout.

But no matter how many times
She may have pissed you off,
You still run to her
For your headache or cough.

You still run to her
When your cash flow is low,
And expect her to find answers
To things you want to know.

Sometimes take her for granted,
Sometimes put her last,
But can't nobody else disrespect her
Cause you'll be whooping that ass.

But most of us turned out okay,
And some were actually served,
By Mama's quick tongue, and Mama's quick hand,
And Mama's last good nerve."