Come up to my crib, ya’ll
And don’t forget yo’ bib, ya’ll
‘Cuz we gon’ eat some bay-galls
And crumbs gon’ straight be sprayed all
Over yo’ baby da-ddy
And in yo’ momma’s Ca-ddy
Yo’ gramps be gettin’ mad, G
Cuz’ crumbs stick to his plaid, see?
Now when I eat my bagel I be eatin’ da’ whole thing, yo
So don’t be try’n ta’ jack me Esse just cuz’ I’m a gringo
The shorties like the sweet ones and the old folks like the wheats
But any kinds-a bagels are the kinds I’s likes ta’ eats
Some suckas like a sticky bun (bun)
And toast-eatas can eat my gun (gun)
You think yo’ gold chain weighs a ton (ton?)
My bagel’s all blinged out with uhn (yun!)
My baby’s got Gucci, but my bagel’s got onions,
My baby’s got chronic, but my bagel’s got onions,
My baby’s got babies, but my bagel’s got onions,
My baby’s got herpes.