Lyrics:
Young niggaz at the pad throwin up gang signs
Ran in the house and grabbed my clip
With the Mac-10 on the side of my hip
Bailed outside and pointed my
and the mac spit, bladdat
Four up in they chest and reload while they back flip
We in this together, bad weather, rippin' the storm
They some dictionary
and mek
Him come back tomorrow
Least likkle ting fi tek weh bwoy life
Swallow dem tip yah weh hallow
When we (wah?) rise di gun, bullet follow
Mac 90 rifle,
up, get money, dats all on my schedule
Pour up da lean, I don’t gotta measure
Since I was 14, I was serving da pressure
You get what you pay for,
bitch, nah'm sayin?
Fuck nigga, shit man, ol' punk ass kids, gon' throw me out the club nigga
That don't mean nuthin' nigga, I'm gon' fuck this nigga up
idiot)
Westsiiiide!
(Hangin’ pondi corner an smoke nuff crack)
Outlaw! Live it up or give it up, busta!
(2PAC a di artical an dats a fact)
Ha ha haha,
I just started jogging in my dreams
Walking on stilts talking slick
Class like the early morning shift
Bossed up
Smelling like hugo and i walk tough
chances yall need to wash dat bread and disappear and show ur wifey whut really tru romance iz/ I mean datz why we do it right? But nah we fall victim
'cause I got mine (uh-huh)
And I'm around, quit playing, nigga, you can't shine (woo)
You gon' be that next chump to end up in the trunk
After being hit
'cause I got mine (uh-huh)
And I'm around, quit playing, nigga, you can't shine (woo)
You gon' be that next chump to end up in the trunk
After being hit
live inside a circus town
Blunts by the boxes and it's nothing but that chronic
Like it's Dr. Dre in '92, depends what I climb into
So astronomical my
face at
And the MAC 11 tucked in where da 12 gauge at
When I was 13 had 14 grams of ajax
Turned 15 start spitting 16s
Of straight crack
By 17, 18th
head if it's bout dat cash
Give me a dickey I don't need that outfit (hol' up)
A 305 fitted jus to match my kicks (hol' up)
'Cause bitch I'm alive
to the track we we're born Mack's
Candy paint we flip ghost ride the whip
Stunna shades on pimps
Fuck you simps
The bay
The home of Mac Dre (Mac Dre)
It's
the pen like my cousin Bud
Lunatic Insane, and my partner T-Love
Big Tom, Ray Ray, Killa Cuddy, Mac Dre
Cleek, Jamal, Jinx and Bluebonic, man
[ 2Pac ]
Now
wake up fine and dandy
But then by the time I find it handy
To rip my heart apart and start
Planning my crash landing
I go up, up, up, up, up
Really keep that forty five
You gone have to back up
CZ on my side like my mac
I keep it backed up
Tj on my right yeah
Ra ra on my side huh
Bae she
bitch, nah'm sayin?
Fuck nigga, shit man, ol' punk ass kids, gon' throw me out the club nigga
That don't mean nuthin' nigga, I'm gon' fuck this nigga up
bitch, nah'm sayin?
Fuck nigga, shit man, ol' punk ass kids, gon' throw me out the club nigga
That don't mean nuthin' nigga, I'm gon' fuck this nigga up
da bomb
I know you hear me comin here I come
And I'm called the Miggida-Miggida-Mac
Can I drop the bomb drop the bomb
Can I drop the bomb drop
the cock
I mack, kick back, and stack that cash
I throw these things fool, don't make me tap that ass
The Mac named Dre is the man for real
Hoes want
mothafuckin sunny day
Stayin in my tub like I was told by young Mac Dre
I said in the last I'ma savage when I go up in 'em
Another fuckin hoe be bendin over for
I wanna Bentley Truck
That bitch said she ain’t gone give it up
Oh dats ya bitch idgaf
Cum on her thumb watch her lick it up
I got the semi tucked
still shootin out 40's (Boa, boa, boa, boa)
Stay up on my grind lil nigga you can call me tony (Bitch)
Cant no pussy nigga hang around me
Man dat shit
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