Lyrics:
shoulders
With four walls closing in,
She'll close her eyes.
It's not like she misses being younger,
Though she never was in Vogue magazine or on TV,
coward ass nigga - you ain't tough
Fakin jax, I'ma call your motherfuckin bluff
Niggaz that violate get me vexed
Son got the mac, Noyd got
In so many bourgeois homes Van Gogh's sunflowers radiate from the walls,
Yet he lived in utter misery, condemned by those very same people.
Why is it
Sigel
You can catch Mac in the parkin' lot, pimpin' crazy
S-5, Navy 'Cedes, sittin' on 80
That's four dubs, not S-4 dub
Stash box, push Hot Wheel
python by colored lips
Posting my bubblegum on Facebook chicalet
Little red rides me so good
Wolf of Wall Street in my hood
The axiom say platinum but
know, I'm the hottest nigga 'round!
So when I get 'em up to my room, I got 'em counting me down, let's get it
4 (4!) 3 (3!) 2 (2!) 2
2 step, (Oh!) 2 step
know, I'm the hottest nigga 'round!
So when I get 'em up to my room, I got 'em counting me down, let's get it
4 (4!) 3 (3!) 2 (2!) 2
2 step, (Oh!) 2 step
If they stop me I hope they lock me
Instead they speed ahead
Yo nigga watch me
I'm drunk by myself, gun under my seat
I don't want none of my
no wonder woman call me baby bitch
Came up from the mud I used to think I was a problem kid
My mama told me stay down till you come around
These niggas
more niggas approachin' holdin' they macs out
One spoke, gave me the keys to a boat, reached in his trenchcoat
And pulled out a yellow envelope
Which
shit, it'd be like drama (yeah)
And you might get tripped on by my baby mama (hey mac)
So do what I tell you and everything'll be alright
You're cute
ain't all fake
It's just 4, 999 of 'em that ain't on tape
See me? I know ya type
Lotta lip on you, you gotta overbite
How you expect to keep up wit'
like I'm motherfucking Zimmerman
Turn around and lose pounds like I'm fucking Timbaland
And by pounds I mean, give it till he cop brick like a wall
those heels when you be dressin’ up
(Dress it up)
But I don’t wanna get caught up
Phone ringing ringing 2 times
2 times
By the 3rd ring you be on your 4
a mountain by the peak
Now that i can touch the bottom of the sea
Stuck in my prime, full time heavyweight
Three or four hotties chillin poolside anyway
Me
disgusted
Interior rustic, the mustard-colored wall's adjusted
Trap doors everywhere
Macs come out the floor, dinners at the Forge
Four Seasons all four
I feel the Aryan in my blood, it's scarier than a Blood
Been looking for holy water, now I'm praying for a flood
It feel like time passing me by
Causing terror to Christina Aguilera
When I grab her by the hair and drag her across the Sahara
Beware of this rap terrorist with a therapist
With a hair
a pistol, damn I need a rifle spray like a Rambo
Bring the rap Mob but lost in the battle now you bring me out
To bust like a bubble, blast you wit da C4
every morning
Felt worse than the night before
I tried to brush it off but only really made it to four
At least by then, there was probably beer bath
can of whoop ass
You don't wanna chance to risk it, no biscuit
Milli mac or mac milli
Will he, won't he, don't be silly, homie you don't know me
sayin
Your girl will bend backwards for you and forward for me
Just give me the chance and boy you will see
Not around here and that's word
It feels so
takes up the pounding of the enemy forward positions…
War Correspondent 3:
And as the shells screamed down and the walls collapsed in gray powder around
That MAC got kick like a horseshoe, he gon' need a horseshoe
It's World War 2 if you push me, bet won't nobody come through
This life we in that we was
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