Lyrics:
spin around
I pop a flat pill and I'm gettin wild
I'm come through with the tec and the mac
Knock ya head off fuck ya cat-in-the hat
Rollin i8, got
an overdose, she fuckin' shady, yuh
Call me daddy, yuh
Call me daddy, yuh
I'ma shoot you with a Mac-10, I'm off the henny
You are the worse, I can not fuck
Don't ever do that I run with two macs
And plus my crew back my every move
I choose givin' crews the blues
I'm open off the Damey
Obey me or get sprayed
and MACs'll make you blood walk
I can make any nigga hit the Crip walk
Crip walk, I'ma let my hip talk
Pulled a forty with a dicky, gotta kill up ya'll
trois, knawmean? Quadrupla trois...
why'knawmean? Shit I don't do much
All that shit, what you expect man?
[Verse 1]
Yo, I don't do much, you know Mac
4x4, hit the strip slow
windows on tint so they can't look in
Its me the kingpin hit and Mac 10
On a trip about to hit up the 6
Should I give up,
want (uh-huh)
y'all know what y'all want (uh-huh)
The Congregation we gone give you what you want (come on)
Verse 2: T-Mac
I wonder what would
just anybody
Nigga done made me mad, I'm putting that MAC on everybody
Lost so many of my friends, I feel that pain runnin' through my body (damn)
I
[Mac Minista]
There's a scripture in the Mac Bible that says
'He that trusts a ho, shall surely be broke'
'Pressure busts a pipe that make water run
transport bricks (ayy, ayy)
Got some MAC lip gloss on ya lips (oh, oh)
Keep a real good jean on ya hips (uh-huh)
You can get it
And to my dudes (kyuh,
with the muffler on the Tec
Respect to the Mac's and the Ac's
To the freaks in the Jeeps, lick shots to my peeps
jeans on
Wasn't for this, I'd never know you had them rings on
I don't know him
But who ever stole your mac
when I see him, imma pat him on the back
Pussy ass niggas, man, it's tax season
Make a move and this mothafuckin' MAC squeezin'
Act decent, bet them hollows leave your back leakin'
Nigga
Pussy ass niggas, man, it's tax season
Make a move and this mothafuckin' MAC squeezin'
Act decent, bet them hollows leave your back leakin'
Nigga
we are
I'ma put the MAC's on, I'ma bring the racks home
Go out or go home (huh), can't end my team, we can't take home (huh)
Bring it on, it ain't
a bed, I'm a kid (kid)
Infinity pool in the back (back)
Your chick wanna fool with a mac (mac)
She asking around for my jack (jack)
But she only
(racks)
Now I got the plug for the sack (woo)
You was the man, put you on your back
Set you up with gnat
Walking around with the MAC MAC
Fuck up
chamber, sleeze
The MAC's on the line, I ain't talking 'bout the PC
I'm the biggest fish in the pan, I'll do you greasy
All he gotta do is call, I'm in my
The MAC by my pelvis in my Helmut Lang
The shells'll bang, make everything outta your helmet hang
Uh, the mayo jar was Hellmann's when I swirled
where Golden State at
But Portland where I lay at
I'm the Daddy Mac, Mac Daddy with hoop and rappin'
Y'all be on your Kris Kross, uh, hustlin'
the fire in the pipes when I hit the pedal
I put the racks and the goons on 'em
I got a MAC with a drum on 'em
Soon as the drop hit we laid on 'em
Two
Apple like Mac
That's that computer love
I kill that p****
But I don't go to the funeral
Cause I'mma wear this a** out like a uniform
So ride this dick
and how long it took
For you to put it on, it was early in the morn'
She resembled a model out of a Mac book
Concentrating on the way the eyeliner
I'm the nigga in the hooptie with my hat down low
Can't tell that this a hit, 'til the mac-10 blow
I got 32 shots, I ain't got to aim
I'll wave this
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