Lyrics:
tu area
Causando desmadre, Ponte Trucha
[Verse One: Mr. Shadow and Lil' Rob]
As I enter I'm gonna representer Mayhem Click
So Let The Mayhem Begin
'cept get catched by dis' lil' stinker over heahhh!
'membuh, we's on broadway! muthafucker be buyin' dem tickets wants a lil' heart, a lil' soul...'n
Like Ink Nigga
Now Back To The Topic Niggas Now How I'm Rockin
Leave Yo Girl At Home Fa Lil Bosie Become Yo Problem
Friday Got On My Glasses Saturday Got
Mr. Telephone man
There's something wrong with my line,
When I dial my baby's number
I get a click every time
Mr. Telephone Man
There's something
Christmas Eve
She had a red dress on
She decorated the whole house
And knew every Christmas song
She was cheeky, sassy, funny
Smiled like Mrs. Claus
By
a show
I feel degraded, purity obliterated
This is all I know and I really hate it
Mr. Minor are you listening? I know that you're a Christian
And got
and Heavy D up in the limousine
Hangin' pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl (that's right)
I let my tape rock 'til my
of another man
Especially when I have everything I want at hand
Except you, you
You know, I got every damn car, multiple cribs
But it's like, "No, I
I'm flexed up, getcha checks up lil bitch
I be flexed up, yeah I'm flexed up, getcha checks up lil bitch
Cause that's my hoe, And that's yo bitch
Every
Country Gold Saturday Night
“Down on the Farm”, “I Walk the Line“
clabama by the bonfire
Gettin' loud with the radio dial
Playin' the classics every time
package
Know me I'm a ups it
Got lil baby whining saying she congested
Yoga instructor all I do is stretch em
It's Saturday you might reach me by texting
If
(Grade A, Grade A, Grade A)
Take a bitch shoulder
Finna introduce y'all to Lil Reuben
AKA Mr g6, G Swig, me swig talk to ’em bro
Nigga, I'm clean
for a day
I think I'm going to be up on Saturday so
I'll just hit you up in a minute
I've been bumping for a minute
I've been loving from a distance
Dont you wanna
Talk about it a lil bit
Floss for a lil bit
'Cause i'm just getting right into the thick of it
Here's a story, guess who's telling it
Mr. Right
Mr. Right
Mr. Right
Mr. Right
Mr. Right
Mr. Right
I turn the radio on
Tell them play another song
Don't you know the holidays
Ey, Mr. Police is you hearin' me
You can do yo' J O be witout touchin', touchin' me
Ey ey, Mr. Police is you hearin' me
You ain't ass without cha
And I ain't leavin' the house
Without that in my hand
And it ain't only the cops
It's niggas on your block
That talk like a lil' bitch and
Act like they
a steady grind
Thursday Friday we don't part always on my grind
Every Saturday we live yea
A couple arons this mourn then it's on I hit my main man like
guy
It was March
It was Phoenix
It was hot already
It's a dry heat
I had been here for 4 years at this point
Every summer hotter than the summer
with the blues (ooh)
Going Mr. T with the jewels (ooh)
Get salt over by your boo (ooh)
I ain't never kickin' no spooks
Nigga say he thinkin' bout
high with my bihh then we start bussing every night Friday
Some things never work out I'm always off on Saturdays
Thank God always every moment Sunday
tu area
Causando desmadre, Ponte Trucha
[Verse One: Mr. Shadow and Lil' Rob]
As I enter I'm gonna representer Mayhem Click
So Let The Mayhem Begin
and everyday we gettin high wit weed
We ride wit G's and movin on up from O's to ki's
(Big Pimp)
I was that'same pimp that y'all use to call
hey lil fat daddy
were making love by Wednesday
& even Thursday & Friday & Saturday
We smoked on Sunday
I met this girl on Monday
Sip a lil Don on a Tuesday
We were making
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