A little sugar, honey s**le lamb A grave expression of happiness Boy, you could'nt miss with a dozen roses Such would astound you The joy of children laughing around you These are the makings of you It is true, the makings of you, oh Kanye West I do it for the fore-fathers and the street authors That are not A&R's in the cheap office Rappers that never got signed but they keep offers Girls thats way too fine for us to keep off us Gave her a handshake only for my man's sake She in her birthday suit cause of the damn cake Now there's crumbs all over the damn place And she want me to cum all over her damn face I never understood planned parenthood Cause I never met nobody plan to be a parent in the hood Taking refills of that plan B pill Another shorty that won't make it to the family will If I don't make it, can't take it, hope the family will They aint crazy they don't know how insanity feel Don C just had a shorty so it's not that bad But I still hear the ghosts of the kids I never had A little sugar, honey s**le lamb A grave expression of happiness Boy, you could'nt miss with a dozen roses Such would astound you The joy of children laughing around you These are the makings of you It is true, the makings of you, oh Kanye West No Electro, no metro, a little retro, I perfecto You know the demo, ya boy act wild You aint get the memo, Yeezy's back in style Now when Rome go Gidget the other got Bridget What's more tripped out though is they sisters Nah, you aint listen, they black, they sisters They momma named them after white b**hes So next time you see me on your fallopian Though the Jewelry's Egyptian, know the hunger's Ethiopian Stupid questions like "Is he gon' be dope again? Have You seen him? Has anybody spoke to him?" This beat deserves Hennessy, a bad b**h and a bag of weed: the Holy Trinity In the mirror where I see my only enemy, Your life's cursed, well mine's an obscenity A little sugar, honey s**le lamb A grave expression of happiness Boy, you could'nt miss with a dozen roses Such would astound you The joy of children laughing around you These are the makings of you It is true, the makings of you, oh Jay-Z This is my momma' sh** I used to hear this through the walls in the hood when I was back in my pyjama sh** Afros and marijuana sticks, seeds and the ganja hat will be popping like the sample that I'm rhyming with Pete Rock, let the needle drop I seen so much as a kid they surprised I don't needle pop Taking sips of pop, six packs of millanips Pink champel, Valentine L Bally's on my feet help me balance out well That and the sh** I used to balance on the scale I got it, honest, from the parties from my momma's Virgin Mary's try to judge her, I'm like "where the Madonna's now?" Give all glory to Gloria, they said "you raised that boy too fast, but you was raising a warrior" We victorious, they'll never take the joy from us Keep you hands up, get mine up Don't let them take your fire Keep you hands up, get mine up Don't let them take your fire Keep you hands up, get mine up Don't let them take your fire Keep you hands up, get mine up Yeaaaah, okay It's Pete Rock, Kanye, One, two, okay It's Pete Rock, Kanye, One, two, okay It's Pete Rock, Kanye, One, two, okay It's Pete Rock, Kanye, One, two, okay