Lyrics:
Yo beanie mac rap guerrilla
I'm out for the skrilla
Face it ain't no replacement for this killa
Keep your hands where I can see em
Don't make me
and all the niggas you claim to
Came were trained by the weak
Double up ya power
Gotta compile it to fuck with me (Ah)
Made it clear like a squeegee
thing make sense
Fo' to the deuce, rest in peace 4 Bent, what?
How you gon' bang if you really ain't from LA?
Spray your gang up on the wall
Tell me
and
Them 30 packs out (Work)
Get them 4's by the
Deuce like Jerry Stackhouse
Fuck my parole, I'm on the early, Macs out
Bodies on the stick, bring the dirty
my face
A fool could get his head split
A lot of doubters
Said it couldn't be done by me
them same suckers
Are now lookin' from under me
Wonder'n what
around them hundreds, you know how much that is (tens)
Too much to give me cash, they had to wire me the back end (send it)
Niggas in here lookin' tough,
her by the waist while I stroke it from the front
Legs wrapped around my waist so I feel it when she bust down
Got a nigga feeling in love now
Standing
, all black
All chrome, black-owned
Black tints, matte black
Walked by, my window down, let 'em see who in it
Crack a big smile (ding)
Go figure, me
the king on set
Hey hey we got them G's on deck
Hey and hit the deck when the king on set
Slap a slug on me mac 11 in the bubble coat
I'm chillin' with
The streets say I'm the hottest and a nigga still modest
I'm just being honest
Back to the wall, never let 'em get behind us
Mac in my draws fitting right in my
four walls
Life's been up and down like a seesaw
I've got two kids that I need to see more
An it makes me feel bad
Me little girl calls me by my first
simple
You kept the wop in style
By bobbing your head, while your booty goes wild
Three to four fellas circling all around you
Hoping they'll get
you think you number one?
With music, did you get make a ton?
Did you get to do everything you want by the sunset?
People call me number one
And I still
ass, ho
Peter-rolled by Koopsta, Crunchy, Juice, Paul, Boo and Scarecrow
Ho, it's a whole lotta demons in my world today
Which means you run into
on the side
In the back by the front of the stage
They ain't really crazy
You can take it from me i should know
Cause I go every time I'm in town
If you never
Putting extra O's, in your bank, like I was rounding
Pour a four, I'm out of space, but still drowning
Lot of niggas, ain't fucking with me, they still
Done, and done.
"Put on a tutu, glue two live wiener dogs to your face, and
Prance around the subway terminal screaming 'Stop looking at me!'"
OK
the rhymes, Puffy had the shine
Bone Thugs had more thugs but that was the shit that made me rhyme
What's up, what's on your mind? Hol' up, I'm feeling fine
I really be having my way
I done poured a four by mistake
Baby girl know I'm on them plays
She be like bae show me the way
She give me that pussy
think I'm a menace cause that Mac back on my lap again
I'm rollin up, rollin around I'm in that drop, rollin through town
The whip gon drive with
You payn' 4 no talk backs
No headaches no none of that
I don't smell loud, got Blunt Effects
Its 4 of us when we hit the club like T-Mac im the 1 wit
was back then
When niggas had problems
They’d settle it by scrapping
But now a days
Niggas walk around with Mac 10s
Get in a argument and one just gets
down, heavenly guarded by hollow tip slug
Then crack down, on wannabe thugs adapt to gat sound
And bow down, slow the fuck up, see how my foul now
heavily guarded by hollow-tip slug
Then crack down on wannabe thugs
Adapt to gat sound and bow down
Slow the fuck up, see how my foul now
Articulate,
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