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Oh, what the heck, let's get married |
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And have a son named Erick, no big deal, no sweat |
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Hmm, I was in for a big surprise |
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And when I saw the judge hammer pass my green eyes |
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Brainlocked, my whole damn head was malfunctional |
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'Cause I forgot to co-sign a prenuptial agreement |
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Now her case is hard like cement |
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I have no files on all the money she spent |
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She has a car, nineteen ninety brand new Jaguar |
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Fly kit, with chrome rims that's five star |
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That she bought, when I was away on tour |
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Hittin' my bank account, gettin' more and more money |
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She got paid, it wasn't funny |
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Talkin' to myself, oh, you big, big dummy |
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Just my luck, that I'm stuck with a marriage |
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And a baby, who lays in a gold carriage |
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Now I can't leave, if I do she gets half, not the cash |
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Oh yes, the whole damn bash of money |
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So I chill, and act so sweet |
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Kiss her feet, can't picture bein' in the street |
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So I give a fake smile and a fake laugh |
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Fake everything so I can keep all my cash |
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Fake talk, like I love you so much |
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But wishin', she gets hit by a Mack truck |
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Next time, if there's one I'll know |
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That most women strictly out for the dough |
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They're called gold diggers |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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The P had a close call, quiet as kept I dated this |
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Fly girl, yeah, and almost got wicked |
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She had green eyes, thunder thighs and a def body, so what cha sayin' |
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Top it off, she drove a black Maserati |
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Chrome kit, with a smile I couldn't resist |
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I tapped E on the shoulder and said, "Yeah I gots to get this" |
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P cool, she could be a gold digger |
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Not with that smile and that stupid boomin' figure |
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'Till one day, she spent the crazy dough |
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Ten g's on Levis, cold went Rambo |
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But then she smiled, gave me a back massage |
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Gassed my head up, and said, oh P you're so large |
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Like a jerk, I went for the line like a fish |
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But she was far from dream girl, and more like a death wish |
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She likes to sit back, lamp, walk on plush rug |
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Whip my five-sixty sip Moet and bug, so did you flip? |
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Tried to but she cut me off and said, "Guess what?" |
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What, "I'm pregnant", Pregnant? Damn |
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Yeah and the child is yours |
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So to fellas, who wanna keep they cash |
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Or beware of the jack hammer and the helmet that glows |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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That's why, men in the nineties must watch themselves |
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'Cause ladies of the eighties got hip and went for self |
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With the new divorce laws which entitles them half |
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That means the house goes, the car, you and half your cash |
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What a price to pay but if you play, you pay |
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'Cause women of the world they got smart today |
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They flash a smile and profile |
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A pucker with a strut |
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Try to move in, knock the boots |
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And got stuck, with alimony payments |
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Time to meet Judge Wapner |
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You try to flip and cut, but she smiles 'cause she gotcha |
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You get a flashback to wedding, when you vowed the vow |
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Said the two deadly words, "I do" |
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But look now, you lost the house, the car |
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Eatin' TV dinners in a one bedroom apartment |
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Boy you picked a winner |
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But what goes around, comes around |
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That's why she wheels the Benz |
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And you ride Greyhound |
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Oh, just your luck, they on strike |
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Take off the wedding band, put out the thumb, time to hitch-hike |
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And the more you walk the pain from your corns get bigger |
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Not to mess with a gold digger |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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'Cause she's a gold digger |
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Yeah EPMD's in effect, DJ Scratch runs flex boy |
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Hit Squad in effect in the house |
