The parent rap

The parent rap

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Don’t make me count to one, two, three.


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 shawtys and now we’re really flossy,

‘cause now we be rolling with our own little posse,

in the minivan, or in our little wagon.

Lemme throw it to 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 the diaper bag look good

when I’m walking through the mall trying to wrangle my brood.

My PB&J’s will set your world on fire.

I could make you mac and cheese blindfolded on a wire.

I’m wiping the doo doo, kissing the boo boos,

got them eyes in the back of my head, I see all you do.

Using your full name so you know I ain’t playing,

and that’s why my kiddos keep saying…


Mom, Mom, she’s the bomb,

rocking all night till the break of dawn,

cooking them peas so I’ll grow up strong,

my second seatbelt 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,

raising those brows if we get outta hand.


When it comes to Candyland, I’m a stone cold playa,

helping out with the homework I’m an algebra slaya.

Wrestle car seats into place without spilling 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, Momma, take it please.


I’m dropping timeouts like they’re hot,

potty training all my tots,

washing all the pans and pots,

tying little shoes in knots.

Giving knowledge to your brain,

like “If your friends jump off a train,

you don’t have to do the same.”

Now get your toys out of the rain.

I’m cleaning every spill,

cutting coupons like a vill.

If you need parental skill,

now you know we are for real.

You don’t think our rhymes are ill?


Then you’re grounded for a mill.


Mom, Mom, she’s legit,

making us chill when we pitch a fit,

telling us to share and never to hit,

and if you can’t say something nice put a sock in it.

Dad Dad, he’s the guy,

never gets tired of playing I Spy,

or the constant barrage of kids asking why,

and he always pretends he needs another tie.

Now break it down.

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.

They gots to know,

close that door you weren’t born in a stable,

sit up straight and kiss your Aunt Mabel,

close your mouth when you chew, get your elbows off the table,

mom and dad of the year: check it, that’s the label.

Aw yeah. Uh. Uh.

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.

Watch the video: The Simpsons The Parent Rap clip1 (May 2022).