BUCKWILD CHILD

Spare the rod
Spoil the child,
Lord help us
He's gonna be buckwild,
At Least i got the foresite
I can already see,
That this son of mine
Didn't fall far from the tree,
You pay for your raisin
I guess it's true,
My poor ole mama aint got shit
On what we're gonna go thru,
Oh lord
Help us all,
Bless this child
With the power say nah,
No thanks
I don't want none,
Let his feet get to movin
So he can run,
From the pressures of his youth
And his trials as a man,
Help him become
All that he can.