Lyrics:
of Makin of the Band
I bagged 'em all, from East Coast broads to California hos
Only go raw, when I'm eatin California rolls
My style's like smokin a sack,
It doesn't take heart
In the animal park
The rhythm's familiar
Once you've ridden
Love's skirting disaster
And Jaguars can't catch her
Desires
Little Girl Voice) He once was a thug from around the way.
Eazy, but you should(Eazy-E Interupts with)
Bitch, Shut the fuck up.Get the fuck out
pretty good)
Ayy man, I got a gang of that shit, man
I'll tell you what
My man on the guitar
Ayy, fool on the drums
Ayy, everybody just crowd around
Your mama don't dance and your daddy don't rock and roll
Your mama don't dance and your daddy don't rock and roll
But when evening rolls around
Your mama don't dance and your daddy don't rock and roll
Your mama don't dance and your daddy don't rock and roll
But when evening rolls around
that
Could pull it off not naming any names
Modeliste: How would you describe
Your personal style?
MGK: I like passing by mirrors or windows
Especially
as I almost fail to notice that my phone ringing
I didn't know the number still answered the call by choice
Quickly remembered once I heard that voice
Yea Yea Yea Yea
We can make love pour out of your soul
You see I once was down but that's old got things looking up around us we grow
Have a little
yaknahmsayin?
Niggas don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin?
But this shit come all the way back around here
My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass
Steps turn around like a western
Spin one-eighty degrees, squeeze off
Blow your chest in
Weigh shots by the unit's
Bang this opportunist
You want war, I'm
Ripped through scenes in my life like old flicks
My body lit
Spit flow into piles
Gave birth to styles
Inflict scripts pre-flipped
By my lips in the cell
Ali
And after two rounds
She say I'm the greatest
Shit I got so many styles
That by myself I'm a fuckin' playlist
Recognize who made this beat hoe
Cause
pretty good)
Ayy man, I got a gang of that shit, man
I'll tell you what
My man on the guitar
Ayy, fool on the drums
Ayy, everybody just crowd around
out, I'm the C-A-S-A-N, the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You
bite my style, dawg
Mountain Gear, the leader of the time that's sturdy footwear apparel
Worn by your favorite superstars
Get down with the MG,
She really cramping my style
She on to me
I thought I'd let you know
That you so out of control
You so out of control
Yeah
She on to me
Yeah she
gave me you number anyway you were on the talcum
Powder, how's about them oranges?
Moved away from home to school with big plans
By day, studied
(Wu-tang style)
(The U in Wu-Tang is for what?)
(Statik Selektah) Statik, you a beast, bruh
Cashmere pea coat
Fella caught a fortune off
Intro (Shaq):
Yo Jef, why don't you give me a hoopa beat or something, something I can go
to the park to,
yeah, there you go, allright, I like that,
it come to a stop
I passed Doyle on the left going up the block
It's a park down the street from D-Block
Getting closer as I move with persistence
I
Gotta be on the top when you are the topic often
Of all their no good, petty ass, jealous talkin'
But there's another option
Could be your style's
Little Girl Voice) He once was a thug from around the way.
Eazy, but you should(Eazy-E Interupts with)
Bitch, Shut the fuck up.Get the fuck out
{"Testify!"}
[Styles P:]
Time I testify, listen
Why Malcolm get killed by the N.O.I.?
I'm yellow but I'm dark for real
And why nobody flip when
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