Lyrics:
it's time, don't fight it
Piggy-back ride to the sofa, in the microwave
I got your favorite Stouffer's, lasagna, that's how much I want ya
Fuck
how much we got (we got)
To see how much we got (we got)
I still be the thuggish ruggish nigga
Dressed in all black khakis, fatigues, and boots
my thang
Since I left ain't too much changed, still
I'm representin' for them gangstas all across the world
(Still) hittin' them corners in them
need therapy, I got so big
Even when they talk crazy I still don't shrink
I'ma black out, Michael Blackson's skin tone
Homie gotta sit for a while
pumpin', you make us so proud
We've been wantin' something this good for a while
But I'm not fooled by both them dimples on your face
'Cause when we danced,
fly-by-nights stop chirpin' B
Heavyweights type work to me
For the time, in this motherfucker ain't nobody hurtin' me
What? Cut your face in like surgery
Who
Mafioso
Mafioso
Mafioso
What? Uh
Mafioso, uh
Mafioso, uh
Mafioso, what? Uh (check it)
How you figure that your team can affect my cream?
and beyond your control
But don't you give up on dreaming
Don't settle for less when you want so much more
Open your eyes up to what you've been missing
California CA
His Uzi up your ass if he don't get paid
Nigga beggin' for a credit, he's knocking out teeth
Clocking much dollars on the 1st and 15th
Big
Your legs or your breasts
Mrs. Fried Chicken, you gonna be a nigga death
Created by southern black women to serve massa' guest
You gonna be a nigga
wing
Showed her how we swing
Now she rolling blunts for her king
1 day labeled thug Mrs
The essence of my ghetto sisters
Hugs and kisses
That's
her under my wing
Showed her how we swing
Now she rolling blunts for her king
1 day labeled thug Mrs
The essence of my ghetto sisters
Hugs
to go down
Runnin' one on one and only hip-hop bound
Yo Tariq (whassup?) How your micraphone sound?
(It sound tight) well aight, show 'em what it's
left you in the cold
Isn't much for consolation when you feel so weak and old
But if home is where the heart is, then there's stories to be told
No,
and the H.A.V.O.C. from the Q.B.C
Putting cowards where they're supposed to be
If I don't know your face then don't come close to me
I got too much beef for that
Drama
in front of a store or something
'Cause you'd be taking shortcuts, right
Cops, "Ree, put your hands up, black boy!"
The cops shot the kid
you're waiting in the wings
Underestimated
By everyone that passes you by
Lookin' up from the bottom
Like a flower that's reachin' for the sky
and the guys in Kani
All the gang bangers forgot about the drive-by
You gotta get your groove on, before you go get paid
So tip up your cup and throw your
Light up the broccoli kid
Throw the relish in my back pocket
Keep your eyes open, push your seat back, just flow
That's how we doing it
Bound by
Mafioso
Mafioso
Mafioso
What? Uh
Mafioso, uh
Mafioso, uh
Mafioso, what? Uh (check it)
How you figure that your team can affect my cream?
them bow's for the rocks
Look I came up from that, cookin' that came from crack
New boys shinin' man, New York's ryder man, look how I got'em Damn!
people to buy
Well how's this for a publicity stunt? This should be fun
Last album now 'cause after this you'll be officially done
Eminem killed by
money's light green and my Jordans light grey
And they love to see white now how much you tryna pay
Lets go!
Today was a good day hope I have me
on two-five
Or your big brother put you on like surprise
Hearing my hood described
So vivid you could see it by closing your eyes
Maybe it was the age
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