Mama’s titties be bouncin’
As strange men with strange parts poke the inside of her,
Third legs or something they had.
While she just be kissing,
Kissing them and tasting their legs.
So many men found in my house,
With eggs and bacon on their plates,
Loose belts and untied shoes,
Holding their heads high and
Not looking me in my eyes.
So many men,
I don’t even try to remember their names,
They just Sunday Mornings to me.