got my second seat belt if we crash head on

27 Aug

Found “The Parent Rap” on “The Deacon’s Bench,” a blog I check often.

At 63 years old I still remember mom applying that “second seat belt” when she needed to stop the car too quickly. In addtion to the eyes she had in the back of her head, my mom also had “spies” who would report back to her every thing we did in every place we went with every person we ever hung around with.

As I watch this video I think of young couples who can barely remember their B.C. days, that is, their days “before children.” And they thought they were busy back then! Now they know what busy is. Now those B.C. days look like vacation.

The Parent Rap

Don’t make me count to 1-2-3
Yeah, it’s the parent rap, y’all
We may spend most of our time chasing toddlers down but
We still know how to rock the hizzle
I don’t even know what you just said

We used to be cool!
Back in the day, back on the block
Watching PG-13 movies, staying up way after dark
Then we had a couple shorties
And now we’re really flossy
Cause now we be rollin’ with our own little possie
In the mini van
Or in our little wagon
Let me throw it to the moms
Cause the little one is saggin’

I used to bling it up, I used to dress real shrewd
Now I accessorize with food that’s already been chewed
And that’s all right
I make this diaper bag look good
When I’m walking through the mall tryin’ to wrangle my brood
My PB&Js will set your world on fire
I could make you mac-n-cheese blindfolded on a wire
I’m wiping the do-do
Kissin’ the booboos
Got them eyes in the back of my head, I see all you do.
Using your full name so you know I ain’t playin’
And that’s why all my kiddo’s, they keep sayin’

Mom mom, she’s the bomb, rocking all night till the break of dawn

Cooking them peas so I’ll grow up strong
Got my second seat belt if we crash head on
Dad dad, he’s the man, working real hard to support the clan
Traded in his porsche for an old sedan
Raisin’ those brows if we get outta hand

When it come to Candyland, I’m a stone cold player

Helping out with the homework, I’m an Algebra slayer
Wrestle carseats into place without spillin’ my mug
If I tuck you in at night, you’ll be as snug as a bug
Then I’m off in the morning, to make that cheese
You may not know this yet, but it doesn’t grow on trees
Now mama take it please, what, uh, take it

I’m droppin’ “time out”s like they’re hot

Potty training all my tots
Washin’ all the pans and pots
Tyin’ little shoes in knots
Giving knowlege to your brain
Like “if your friend jumped off a train you don’t have to do the same”
Now get your toys out of the rain!
I’m cleanin’ every spill
Cuttin’ coupons like a vil
If you need parental skill now you know
We are for real!
You don’t think our rhyms are ill boy?
Then your grounded for a mil!

Mom, mom, she’s legit
Making us chill when we pitch a fit
Telling us to share and never to hit
If you can’t say somethin’ nice put a sock in it
Dad dad, he’s the guy,
never gets tired of playing “I spy”
The constant barage of kids asking “why”
And he always pretends he needs another tie

You know money doesn’t grow on trees
Why buy the cow if the milk is free
This won’t hurt you as much as it hurts me
If you want dessert eat another veggie
Close that door
You weren’t born in a stable
Sit up straight
And kiss your aunt mable
Close your mouth when you chew
Get your elbows off the table
Mom and dad of the year, check it, that’s the label

It’s the parent rap y’all
And it’s apparent
We’re great parents
Mom and daddy in the house
Mom and daddy own the house
Mom and daddy need to clean the house…

Keep your hands to yourself, boy

Don’t make me stop this beat, I’ll do it!

I’ll pull this beat right over.

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