Lyrics:
gangsta style
'Cause I be seein niggaz bein more aggressive now
After peace treaty meetings and the weapons down
Sport Chucks 'member once it was Nikes
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me
Buck & 50, I'm Ridin Shotgun with the Mac 11, this the Remix homie Stunt 1-8-7, before I lose my life, for that dime embezzled, I'll tint the window with
Mac, who goes to the track
And drinks till he thinks he's sober
He takes his pay, and chucks it all away
And thinks that he's having fun . . . No!
Back
somebody put me otherwise
Yeah, drive-bys out of Cherico
Hey, my youngest shoot when I tell him to
Who the competition, who, huh, Derek Lu
I mean, beside
great, my tummy aches
It's been a long time since I last ate
I've got specific dietary needs
I don't eat meat, respectfully
Do you know if this was
blow some stacks
Say "Fuck it" by the rack
Straps go clack, need cheese with the mac
Whatchu know bout bustin' down a bag?
Gucci do rag, and my tracksuit
dollar car where I sit
And my broad is the shit
Crenshaw in the 6
Got it parked at the Shell in front of all of the Crips
You either ball or you brick
to the County with no motherfuckin' bail
4800 with this Crippin', oh well
My big homie Boy Blue snatched me by my coattail
He said trip Dogg, ya better get
chuck
It in Flushing Park
I'll be right here with the truck in park
While the Gap Band played I stared in a daze
My graze can't be patched with a band-aid
a game in my vein
[Verse 1: Mac]
Murda murda I wrote it in braile
Uncut, lyrical dope, certified by my scale
The homicide rapper, there'll never be
a mac and a spliff on my lap (in my lap)
Got a bag of this piff and a cap
Tell your girl stop giving me love reacts (she love it)
I don't think she comin'
a game in my vein
[Verse 1: Mac]
Murda murda I wrote it in braile
Uncut, lyrical dope, certified by my scale
The homicide rapper, there'll never be
a Mac Bitch
Young Mac Mark
Young Black Brothas Records is a goddamn flop
Khayree needed to stop
Way back when his ass got dropped
From that major label
tipsy
Running everything west of the Mississippi
Its the unseen, pulling strings with my pinky ring
We got your woman, pucker up 'fore we fuck her up
tipsy
Running everything west of the Mississippi
Its the unseen, pulling strings with my pinky ring
We got your woman, pucker up 'fore we fuck her up
and went on my way
I got to the party 'bout ten, I'd say
It was after eleven when I rocked the mic
And by the time I left the stage, the people were hyped
Blue jeans, check! Black T, check!
Record my raps on a cassette tape deck
Wearin' no sweats cause Nike owns Chucks
Three rows of studs cause hoes
and designer clothes
Dimes dubs half's and wholes
Got me loading mac ten's and calico's
On point yeah I stay on my toes
And I got that good shit that you put up
Bongo By The Way
I wake up every morning on the same shit
I smoke my 'Wood to the roach like I ain't rich
Niggas I used to hang with, is still
body in Chuck's yard, UNLV..
I'm bout'ta teach the cheerleader not to fuck with me,
I told y'a to keep my fuckin' name out ya fuckin' mouth,
You didn't
back at it again, gagging you bitches
And ofc you know, gagging you niggas too
But um, I wanna say shout out to my fans from chuck town
All the way
Chuck Stangers
And I got got zero loses and 1010 wins
Real niggas fuck with but got no best friends
I had to teach my skater bitch how to ride dick
Boy bye
(I bet I do it)
Boy bye
(I chuck them deuces)
You can go ahead
I don't need ya
Look at all the levels I done reached up
I got a new plug
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