[intro]
I'ma tell you what you need to do
What's that?
Get back together and do some of that shit like y'all did on illegal business. that squeeky shit
(yo, [?] in the muthafuckin house, smokin' [?] busting my lungs)
(nigga, know you can't fuck with this, stupid ass, come on)
[verse 1: mac mall]
In this inner city jungle i can sense trouble
Fuckin with my mental when i'm higher than hubble
So just huddle of em corners where i used to sell bundles
Speakin' on that killa shit, inciting whispers and mumbles
That dog let loose with no muzzles
[?] bang but don't rumble, concrete hearts that don't crumble
Cuddie came home, did a couple
Put him up on game and watch him bubble
Now them suckas love to hate, i rather hustle
And them bustas try to ball, i watch em fumble
While i keep a sharp step but don't stumble
Livin' the life, it's kinda hard to be humble
Especially when your count start to double
Low like tunnels, attitude never subtle
Won't yell, i mug, i even tussle
When i get hot, i'm nutso with the jumbo cop
My chassy crying tears in big puddles
But i'm so real about this muthafuckin scrill, nigga come on
[interlude: khayree]
Bout time we show our ass. you silly muthafuckas, you know you can't fuck with this (come on) listen to him, it's mac mall
[verse 2: mac mall]
They ain't want no money cause if they did
They would [?] without a sucka dig
You wanna have loot and live like privilege
You wouldn't be scraping and scratching for bullshit
Police crack down like bull whips, i smash your new whips
High off holla, awaiting the mothership
High off dollars, fetti fanatic
Both pockets bulging, walk like a savage
The richer i get, still i'm many man niche
Curves running, they duck from weapons i banish
Don't give a fuck, you can die but can't quit
That's why this game got ten commandments
One way to die but a million ways to sin
So grab your gat, young soldier, we all in
Got one chance, no time to remit
Government built pens so they can house my kin
Come on
[interlude: khayree]
I'm telling you, man, sick of your muthafuckin shit. same old bullshit. you need fifty niggas to rap on your record to make something decent. you're fraudulent, fake, counterfeit, fucked up, non-producing, non-rapping muthafuckaz, get up out the way
(one, two, three)
Khayree (what's up) give me a breakdown
[verse 3: mac mall]
My lawyer like his fetti and [?]
My [?] like that insane funk
Long talk, walk up and monster dump
The rollers don't know what's up
Peep a hundred gold ones, get caught, you on one
We [?] no one, just [?] your guns
Smoking [?] busting my lungs [?]
And everybody under the sun
Love, hate, fuckin, even kill for the crumbs
I'm waitin' for new millenniums and [?] president
Fuck the world, where i'm from, we ain't scared of the bomb
So run when the police come
I be that nigga with the outlaw gun, get dumb
Pull the trigger before i know what i'd done
[?] assassin, ar sk's and dum dumbs
Uncle sam left his shit undone
So a nigga got a plan to rush the pentagon