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Mr. LucciMr. Lucci 

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Mr. Lucci

Jeron C. Gibson (born November 15, 1982), better known by his mononym Mr. Lucci or sometimes by Lu Diamond, is an American hip hop recording artist, actor and entrepreneur. In 2001, Mr. Lucci released his first album Diabolical, followed by My Life (2004), 100% Real (2007), 10th Anniversary (2010), V.V.S. (2011) and Certified 1ct (2012). more »

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Ha, them boys don't think we can freestyle up here huh?
Put it in they face, and make them feel something
These niggas don't think these Dallas boys got something
Um-huh, just don't know (know) tell 'em

It's me that's creepin' up yo' block without no tops, spark and glistenin'
With the number one niggas, our side is D-Town is bringin' these hits wit' him
Hmm, and is keepin' a sliff wit' him
Plus a 5th in him, wit' some creased up denim
You could catch me limpin, right cup sippin', well then I'm sho' 'nough pimpin', playa'
Well I thought ya knew the truth when we drop Mr Pook' up on you boyz, playa'
Haters claim the fool, so we let loose, Mr Luc' wit' ghetto noise, say what?
Need to watch that 
'cause ain't nothin' but platinum plaques comin' up out Kevin a cat
I guarantee's that, and ya best believe that
Hold on dog where my sweet at?(Sew it up mayne)
Nigga pass the flame so I can heat that(Nigga gon' ahead shit)
Let me gon' fire up this doskey-do', oh, Kevin A brang the beat back
Ain't no stoppin' this, soon as I'm done droppin' this
Man Ed and Kap down at the barn is gon' be choppin' it (Ch' ch' ch')
Wit' screw versions cross the top and this
And a monopoly in the industry, is what this shits gon' occur to me
For, all of these niggas who ain't heard of me, or my thirty-thirty G's
Better peep the crook, chain and the piece (Chime! Bling!)
We some warriors from the North the D
Doin' it how it's supposed to be wit' the crooked ass niggas that's close to me

[Chorus: x2]
Mr Lucci be comin' up the block, on slabs
Breakin' bitches off and it don't stop, no doubt
Wettin' up yo' spot and leavin' it hot on swoll, nigga
How the hell you feel, we pimpin' hoes in tight clothes

Well I'm thankin' bout bigger thangs (What?)
Bigger chain dog bigger rings
Pimp wit' a bigger grain
Off a side of a bigger frame down a bigger lane
I'm a bigger mayne, nigga wit' a bigger name
Spittin' bigger game (What you is?)
True pimp wit' a bigger caine as I step through wit' a bigger swang
I smoke bigger mo's, wit' bigger pro's, and bigger hoes
And I stack bigger dough, floss bigger fro', ride bigger Vogues
And we pull, bigger jacks wit' bigger gats and bigger cats
And we chief, bigger sacs, ride bigger 'Lacs, hang bigger plaques
And I cock bigger locks, break bigger glocks up off yo' spot
And we work bigger rocks, tote red beams, wit' bigger dots
And what, plus bigger guts, and bigger wheels on bigger Trucks
And we sip bigger cups, man bigger skills dog bigger nuts
And I'm on a bigger chase wit' a bigger lake on a bigger place
Hmm, my team? Bigger taste, bigger beats wit' a bigger bass
Wit' some bigger thoughts, and some bigger bread and a bigger vault
Man wit' some bigger shit Hunn, like a bigger walk and a bigger talk

[Chorus: x2]

Un, nigga how you feel wit' twankie inches on yo' 'Lac(what?)
Breakin' bitches off wit' 5th wheel up on yo' back nigga
Choppin' up yo' game nigga, or poppin up yo' dane-a dane-a
100 percent southern raiser, motherfucker on another page
Let ya candy paint, drip and drop, and I'm off the lot wit' ya trunk pop
And ya front screens, flip and flop, down the block, and it don't stop
Drop, 4 g's wit' ease, down at 4 li's wit' g's down at
And soon as I leave, auto crank the car wit' my keys
And bet, anytime I see ya I got my sweet up blazin my weed up
Nigga full of that G stuff, 'Hen and Reefer wit' sexier divas
Just call me the W-I-G-S-P,L-I-T-T-A
Hey chiefin' my life away!
Won't ever change and front my style, f*ck that I'm tryna clown
I'm talk talkin' bout brangin you hits you can bang in yo' shit 4 years from now
It's trill so huh? It's goin' down on the hill
Reclinin' and stackin' mills, while shinnin' in 'Lac Seville's, playa'

[Chorus: x2]

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