Lyrics:
[Chorus]
Down with the king for years, about ten of 'em
Recruiting suckers, Mac and Mike, and makin' men of 'em
Tears and fears for my peers, they
background
Try and stick me I'll fill your back with MAC rounds
Ask Preme, nigga, 50 don't back down
I keep it funky like fiends in a crack house
Cross
on my mama
Ayy, homeboy, while you at it
Gimme large fries, a strawberry shake
Big Mac, 'cause this MAC-10 fo' life
Can I roll wit you?
Come
way you go against me, you still gon die
I got four macs, a few nines, I'm ready for beef
You wanna talk, it ain't about money, then let it be brief
entourage turn yours to just mirages
Disappearing acts, strictly .9's and MAC's
Killers be serial, Copperfield material
My dreams is vivid, work hard
government cheese
Spray on Suzuki's, eleven-hundred CC's
No plate on the back, straight squeezin' the MAC
In the hood they identify niggas by they cars
So
Spray on Suzuki's, eleven-hundred CC's
No plate on the back, straight squeezin' the MAC
In the hood they identify n- by they cars
So I switch up whips
I move on you with that MAC, mane (MAC, mane)
Come off that watch and chain 'fore I blow out your brains
Shells hit your chest, go out your back,
down with the king
Get down with the king, king
Down with the king for years, about ten of 'em
Recruiting suckers, Mac and Mike, and makin' men
And Mac Mall's here, homey that can move the crowd
So what the deal with you nigga, you could cross the town
Put the squeeze on the haters, ain't no
doubt
They'll catch his ass slipping at his grandma house
They got the Mac-10 pointed out the coupe
'Cause they gotta follow they nose like Fruit Loops
the wind I never blew it
(They say!)
I swayed but kept in my lane
They call me fleetwood mac
I'm a mac with a mac with a fleet
Still getting royalties
Run like I'm in a track meet, swift with the MAC, B
You can see the envy in they eyes fo' sho' mayn
Mad as a motherfucker that I'm holdin'
See me in
meenie mini moe, nine, trey pound or forty fo'
Pick a strap, The Tec, the Mac, the Hawk, I stab it in your back
I'll blow your brains, I know your name
pullin' out them tecs
Man I got dem mac's man I got dem k's
and I got dem nine's and I got them a's r-15's and them 22-trey's
Player wanna ride I'm
Ain't scared of none of y'all motherfuckers like Bernie
Mac step back, step back, I got the Mac-11
Unlike Obama, I'ma have to back my reverend
Take me
the task here
Quick as a lighting I fucking shot that ass up
Well, rugged and rough that's how I'm steppin'
Mac is the weapon, and it's always kept in
I
government cheese
Spray on Suzuki's, eleven-hundred CC's
No plate on the back, straight squeezin' the MAC
In the hood they identify niggas by they cars
So
the MAC (stay with the MAC)
I got a bitch for every week and all my bitches freaks
I got a bitch for every day of the week (woo, woo)
I got a brick for
every time
I wake up in the morning, I got murder on my mind
AK-47s, MAC-11s, Glocks, and .9's
And all these pussy niggas hating tryna knock me off
for my dawg, yeah, this that get back (get back)
When it's war, yeah, we go tit-for-tat (tit-for-tat)
Ring around the Rosie with this big mac (whoa)
On the corners we hang, and we slangin' the pain!!
[Chorus]
[3rd Verse:] [Mystikal, Mac]
[Mystikal]
A helluva, helluva nigga right chea
You can take
[Featuring Mac Mr. Serv On]
[C Murder]
Yeah check this shit out. This is for all my real tank dogs
My No Limit soldiers out there buying my
to the pimp
You wanna stick it
I wanna stick it
We wanna stick it
(say goodbye mac daddy
Time to cry wack laddy
Nice try saddy saddy
You just
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