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lirik lagu ice cream man/shoe throwin’ mothers – eddie murphy

do we have the icecream man around here?

remember when the ice cream man used to come to town when you was little? and no matter what you was doing you would stop and lose your f*cking mind! there’s something about the ice*cream truck that makes kids lose it

and they can hear that sh*t from ten blocks away. they don’t hear their mothers calling but they hear that motherf*cking ice cream truck. and no matter what was was going on, the iceman came, it stopped. you be getting some marbles and sh*t:
“ice cream! ice cream! the ice cream man is coming! the ice cream man is coming!”
“mom! mom!”
“throw down some money!”
“the ice cream man is coming!”

then your mother come to the window and be throwing change and say:

“get your father toasted almond boy, get your brother icy, get yourself vanilla cone and bring back my change.”

catch all that sh*t and run down the street, top speed. chasing the icecream truck and:

“icecream!”

ice cream man always drove extra blocks away though. and i know he’s seen us and sh*t, but i think he just be in the car with his friends and say:

“watch me how fast i make these motherf*ckers run”

you’d be behind him doing 50mph and going:

“icecream!”
you stop, you be out of wind saying:

“icecream man, can i have this, i want this over there, toasted almond for my father, and give me this ice cream over here and vanilla cone. thank you, icecream man! thank you!”

i’d get my ice cream and i didn’t eat it just sing for a little while. you know how kids are

“i have some ice cream, i have some ice cream, and i’m gonna eat it all, i’m gonna eat it all…”

the ice cream be running down your arm and sh*t

“you don’t have no icecream!

you didn’t get none! you didn’t get none!

“‘cos you are on the welfare, you can’t afford it.”

other kids would join in:

“you can’t afford it, and his father is an alcoholic!”
“you dropped your ice cream, you dropped your ice cream…”

eat it. i could drop my icecream in a pile of sh*t and eat it. i would be like “it’s just sprinkles”

unless your mother catch you doing that nasty sh*t, though. my mother caught me doing that, she made me put it down in 1 sentence:
and you dropped that sh*t, quick
anybody got them mothers that would hit you with a shoe? i had a mother that was so ashoed she would do at the drop of a dime. and f*ck you up, wherever she was aiming. and bad with the shoe, carry that sh*t like a gun, by the time i was lie 10, my mother was like clint eastwood with the shoe

and you f*ck up, my mom was walking the room just like:

[whistle’s the good, the bad and the ugly theme song]

“why did you eat your ice cream off the floor?”
“i didn’t, i just…”

bad! accurate!

you’d be in a supermarket and sh*t and be grabbing cereals off the counter going:

“mom, can we get this?”
“i guess not!”

and could be doing three different things, be on the phone with my grandmother, be cooking with this hand have the phone like this and be saying;

“yeah, mama, hold on a second.”

f*ck you up and god forbid, my mother be dressed up and had them high heels on. them pumps, ‘cos then she gets boomerang action going on your ass! and f*ck you up in your room, you won’t even know what the f*ck happened

they can hear you when you’re getting ready to walk out the door. and hear you on the bunk beds f*cking around. they got that mother hearing

“wait a minute, baby.”
“let’s go.”
she was the one who did all the disciplining around the house and sh*t. very, very strict house i came from

- eddie murphy

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