Lyrics:
niggas, say
Fuck y'all niggas we don't trust y'all niggas, say
Where I'm from
Niggas still ride on they enemies
Mike G, infinitely supply by Hennessy
still alive like Mike in thriller
But HE can free up a trapped soul like Bryson Tiller
Find a scripture, I am for realer, my mind is 'iller
Than
or am I right to go and leave
I had a war up in my mind my anxiety would peak and
Fireball and Mike's could only cover up the pain
A temporary fix
singing
Got my mind on high just thinking about you
Pray my shot that Im sinking it down
Cannot move from what I told you about just playing
I'm so out
This is MBM.
This is MBM.
This is MBM.
Now Check me out now.
I got to get my money right.
I got to get my mind and my body right.
I'm killing mc's
TO BE LIKE MIKE LEE
FUCKING BAD WHITE GIRLS AND WHIPPING IT HIGH SPEED
NOW I DRIVE A BOAT, IT’S NOT MINE, THE OWNER RIDE SHOTTY TRYING TO TOP ME
LIFE’S
out of that water like I was just bathing
And watch my step on the wet pavement, yeah
I'm from the hood, so I rep 'em where I can't take 'em
out of that water like I was just bathing
And watch my step on the wet pavement, yeah
I'm from the hood, so I rep 'em where I can't take 'em
Man, I've been needin' to see you all day
Boy the sun is real out here
But I've been comin' by just seein' if
I need one favor man
You know I got
rock out, I
Bitch know i pop i when i pop out, I pop
She call me daddy, call me poppa
Poppa smurf by the way i'll pop out and i'll pop you
Sell drop's
standing
I get in, then I get out. You only get in what you give out
I’m allergic to those who pout. Knocked it out like I’m Mike Trout
I never had
the ears
So fuck off with the blindfolds
Michael exits the mist
And goes psycho
Rifle
Next to the corpse
That's by the pine cones
My mind gone
My stories
life on the Corleone's
The 1st Godfather Kouldn't go wrong
Vito or Mike
To all the listeners choose who you like
But what I'm Thinking by the end
Now I'm back without a grasp of reality
Finally see the realism of life in actuality
Finding myself terrified by my own infernality
If I'm gonna rap,
Yo, can I hear this record by Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock?
Hey, man, you sure you wanna hear this, man?
You sure about that, man?
Alright
Right
feel the same
Me & mike use to plot on how to kill the game
Living turnt all the time what you need make yo mind I got racks by a nine
& some niggas
backwards faster than Mike
Jackson smooth criminal in action
Passion is eating rappers
Spitting bones out in a napkin
Then I zone out listening to
The last
Uh let me spit now
I see you talking all your shit
You should quit now
Yea 2bee up in the building
Yea I'm it now
Yea I was tag by your bitch
You
one track minds
I pray to God that we don't run out of time, shit
And go extinct, like in the blink of an eye
I seen my niggas brains up in some
Coronas, no lime, no Spring Break tequila
Kissed the blue sued coat, a pair of Filas
All white shit, I like that Mike Ty shit, Punch Out
A chick'll suck
Mike-shit not to be fuck wit.
Motherfucker better duck quick, cause me and my
Dogs love to buck shit, fuck the luck shit strictly aim
Go operation just
as in times
of eighty-nine they envision me
Warm days and the cold beer chemistry
Eventually broken up by responsibilities and such
Sometimes this era
Franklin in
The GC closed down, Mike Childs got ten
The feds locked the pimps up
For pimpin in the south
You may control her mind
But you can't control her
starts out street to crossover
But not me, cause I`m the hardcore composer
You ain`t a writer nor a fighter you`re just a biter
I think you need
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