Mac Dre Intro

[PSD]

I puff much dope

1/3’d cutthoat

[Dubee]

I’m 2/3 Cutthoat

Hit’cha fo’ splittin dope

[Mac Dre]

And Yee!

It’s me!

M! D!

Cutthoat 3!

[PSD]

And please believe

PS call a broad a B

[Dubee]

Beezel

Neenel

Like what the Fezzel?

[Mac Dre]

Fo’ Shezzel’

Ya seezel

Mezzel you

Peezzel

[PSD]

Me-shel

On my next tell

Callin me poppy

[Dubee]

A suckkal can’t stop me

I put holes in his body

[Mac Dre]

Don’t know karate

But my Kemo soby dick do

[Tic]

Cash issues with the all

You can kick you

[PSD]

Switch’cha like a swisha

Bitch you get the picture

[Dubee]

Twist ya front to back

Like a backwood

[Mac Dre]

I stack good

Mac good

Send’em to the track good

[Tic]

Liquid ass the hole hood

Come with gats it’s all good

[PSD]

Bags of joog

Turf niggas halla in dollas

[Dubee]

Cutthoat calla poppas

We all in ya noggin

[Mac Dre]

I’m the rapper gone bad

Mr.stuppid doo doo dumb

I rap it in pro-plastic

She can’t feel the cum

[PSD]

Mr. Menage ttwwwaa

Hoes butt naked in my ccaaarr

[Dubee]

I’m Mr. Indo smokein money

Do my thang still go nutty

I rriiidddee though the town

Still hoggin buddy

[Tic]

It’s like general (?) mach ya

Ya boy got

[PSD]

Flavor

[Mac Dre]

We bite down

[Dubee]

Toilet take a chump

[Tic]

Like Gadeaz

Mac Dre All It Takes

[Chorus x2]

A little bit of game is all it takes

A little bit of game goes a long long way

[Verse 1]

Cuddie I don’t sleep much, ’cause when I close my eyes

I hear cries from my potna’s who lost they lives

Visions of bloody brutality’s reality

Gotta stay focused and hope it don’t affect my salary

Them calories, they keep my pockets fat, I got to stack a grip

Try not to trip, and keep them gold diggers off my dick

I’m gettin’ sick ’cause I drink 24-7

The way I’m livin’ now, if I die, there’s no heaven

Gotta help my potnas in the pen ’cause they livin’ broke

This ain’t no joke, on parole and I can’t smoke

No sticky indo, roll down the window

‘Cause if I breathe[? ] the task is back [? ] like Nintendo

Gotta play the game like a professional

If you ain’t having money I got to let you go

I need to let you know the rules before you [? ]

Rule number one potna, never should you pimpatrate

I spit this pimpin’ straight and cut no addatives

Just nouns and adjectives, how mad you get don’t mattter bitch

I’m a player so I serve the game

Maintain campaign, and have thangs

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 2]

Back in ’92 I was drowned in them big cases

But now it’s ’97 and I’m counting them big faces

I switched places with them sardines and squares

The [? ] fillet mignon, and garlic bread

A hard head, big heart, and gorilla nuts

Got me mobbin’ thru the bay like I don’t give a fuck

I’m whipped, equipped, and stay dipped in butter sauce

Pill if shes real, no scrill I cut her off

‘Cause fine ass bitches with the empty bank book

Is worse than them ugly muthafuckas who can’t cook

My game cooked for five years in the feds

Now it’s time for these game hungry niggas to get fed

I get bread, so them suckas down me

Smile in my face but clown me when they not around me

Talk down on my every move, but I could’ntgive a damn

Playas do what they want, and suckas do what they can

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3]

7-5-70, my DOB, uhh

And I’ve been breakin’ hoes since ’83, what?

Money makers manual, handle my business discretly

Don’t give my home phone number out, beep me

‘Cause ain’t no tellin’ who be tellin’, or who they tell

And plus I heard that they be sellin’ kinfolk the yayo

Boy get your mail, don’t act like your lil sista

If you lackin’ in this mackin’ boy I bet you fist her

Get some get right as I come tight to this Doo Doo Dumb

Track, that cat K-Lou, knew how to come

With Mac Dre, that 3 C veteran

More game than March Madness, and dope as exederin

Hit big licks, wouldn’t pull no small capers

I’m a be a dog and stay up like wall paper

Look at these break bitches like they stank

Collect my bank and stay sharp as a shank

[Chorus]

Mac Dre 3c Romp

I’m quick to flip the script and transform like a Deceptacon

Dope as pharmaceuticals, drink [? ] at cafe Escalon

Love dosha dank that make me choke burp and cough

Cause I’m the type of nigga that like to smoke perk and toss

Use them Magnum rubbers baby, cause they be bigger than the rest

And in case you didn’t know me homie I represent the Crest (sida)

Haters be mad at me, I pull bitches with flattery

Have the funk savagely, commit assault and battery

On any man, who think he can serve me some static

Got many friends with mini vans, with fully automatics

Love Evelyn Jones and boy I’m deadly playin bones

Federalies had me gone but now a nigga back at home, it’s on

Lip poppin no stopping panties droppin left and right

Boy they be jock in, steady shoppin for sex at night

Old school like Atari and I’m dope on my pen

We be M A C D R E aka Silky Slim, from the V

Never drink haterade, Armani suits tailor made

Quick to shake a blade, and broke bitches I’ll never fade

Kick off your Air Maxes relax, while I bust

Cause thou shall not have stress, hutch shall not be trusted

Game spicy, like mustard rushed into your cerebellum

Super saucy ex felon but there’s still no telling

What that H O might D O on the D low

So we go super hard on broads and play their ass like cards

Can you feel it, nothing can save ya

Cause this is the season of licks and capers

Unemployment at a record high

People coming, People going who’s next to die

I, stay ready with heavy macks and choppas

Tell me can you crack tonight, steada tryin mac some cock

Cause I’m a 3C romp there in nothing higher

Threw a friend in the pen cause a nigga wore a wire

But now I’m back, with crates of raps

Ready to break some backs and make fools face facts

Niggas walk around town, jealous with envy

Cause I stay fitted and getting hoes infinity

Representin Windy, Sage and Mark

Leonard, Soya Missen buggy and all

Peanut, Kendal, Kentay and Jack

Ta Ta, Torence, PSD andYak

Chewy, Mini eyes and Wayne Howard the dope fiend

Ray Shawn, Da Da, Mac Lee, and Highshadee

Green eyes, Neko, my homeboy Jay

Please don’t hurt Baby Rock, Freak E Dee, Dant and Ray

Mac Dre She Neva Seen

[Verse 1]

It was a hot night in August, (hot August night), humid

Hit the store to get some O.J. to shroom with

Ooh shitty, I’m in the world’s biggest little city

Seen a girl with some big ass titties

Top notch sadditty, punk bitch knew she was pretty

Get goosed in the city, get your purse took

When I stepped in her life she felt the earth shook

Before I spit the first hook, let me lace ya

Fucked her, had her crying like somebody maced her

Gave her a taste of some real macaroni

She swore she would do, anything for me

That’s no bologne, baby brought me bread

Freaked me on the freeway on the 80 gave me head

She neva seen, a savage in Tims

Push a S5 sittin’ on some Davin rims

[Beat Bridge]

[Verse 2]

Listen, you wouldn’t want to miss this

I met this bitch the night before Christmas

Baby made my hitlist Christmas night

She let a nigga hit by Christmas lights

This bitch was tight, just my type

Barely right ride a dick like a bike

HIt a dick like a pipe quick late night hype

Them the kind of thangs that makes my night

The steak ain’t right without the A-1

So I stay dipped in sauce and they come

Like baby did, like that nigga old lady did

Like Karen, Kameka, and Katie did

It’s crazy kid

Mommy on my bozac, I’m pimpin and she knows that, nigga wher the hoes at

Bet she neva seen, a sav in Tims

Push a S5 sittin’ on some Davin rims

[Beat Bridge]

[Verse 3]

Me and black jesus went to Rosaritas

Seen senoritas eating carnitas

I was rocking my adidas sneakers

Told the waitress give my fajitas

Gold teethas, never speechless

Gave me the number with a Fairfield prefix

Dipped to the cougar, put up the ruger

In the stash spot, a wise maneuver

Put up the cougar, pulled out the MB

California Hot Boy, MD

The boss, that do the firing and hiring

Sweat a broad, I keep them prespiring

She’s admiring the way I slide

The way I ride, and her boyfriend lied

She neva seen a sav in Tims

Push a S5 sittin’ on some Davin rims

[Ending Chorus x2]

She only see’s me with European keys

She only see’s me with woodgrain sprees

She only see’s me with Champelli trees

She only see’s me having hella G’s

Mac Dre Chevs And Fords

[CHORUS:]

[Mac Dre:]

Cause I’m the Chevy man

The Chevy man?

Yes, I’m the Chevy man

[Lil Bruce:]

I’m a Ford man

Mob in my old school because I can

I’m a Ford man

Turnin’ figure eights with a blunt in my hand

[VERSE 1: Mac Dre]

My partner got a ElCo, my homie got a ‘Maro

He Mexicano, might rock a sombrero

My cuzzo got a Mali’ sittin on Rally’s

He candy green, might’ve seen him in the Valley

My uncle got a Imp’, he a pimp

96 in the flow when he hide behind a tint

My auntie got a ‘Vette so tight she might wreck

My cuddy got a candy Nova, he hella wet

My granny got a ‘Burban, not an Excursion

Gramps got a Silverado, Stepside version

My nigga Nate got a Z-28

And if the rollers get behind him, boy, he finna shake

My folks got a glasshouse and when he mash out

I crack the heem and pull the grass and the hash out

Catch Dre in a trey, revvin it

Please believe it, I’m always Chev’in it

[CHORUS]

[VERSE 2: Lil Bruce]

I hit the California coast in a California Mustang

Shelby drop-top so hot on them gold thangs

I get the thumbs up, I like that old school Ford

I got the 64 Falcon, all original, restored

Sports coupe Sprint, not a ding or a dent

390 V8, you didn’t know they made them

With my XR-7 70 work convertable

429 Cobra Jet unservable

I’m a Ford man, never bored, man, I got collection

Smash on a Chevy, then I smoke the intersection

Give us a parking lot and let the sideshow commence

Young niggas lose on the impounds and dents

High speeds, I knows all about em

Old school veteran, Lil Bruce straight clownin

I slap my shit on low and let the rollers feel my pan

They know they can’t see me cause I be the Ford man

[CHORUS]

[VERSE 3:]

[Lil Bruce:]

This is high speed chase play, I’m first on race day

I’m at the stoplight with my cutthroat Mac Dre

[Mac Dre:]

I’m at the light on slicks pushin on the throttle

SS 400 small block Monte Carlo

[Lil Bruce:]

69 Falcon lights squarer than my first hoe

427 with the fo’ on the flo’

[Mac Dre:]

Yeah, you lookin hella clean and kinda mobby

But my gears snatch quick with this 12 bolt posie.

[Lil Bruce:]

Yeah, I like your Caddy but I’m a blow your do’s

I got the 750 double pump Holly on flows

[Mac Dre:]

Cam, lifters, B&M shifter

Nitrous oxide make the Chevrolet swifter

[Lil Bruce:]

Trick flowin hearse with the nitrous burst

Make the sports coupe fly and the Chevy boys cry

[Mac Dre:]

I got ported aluminum heads, I’m hella fast

Your Ford’s in my rearview, I’m seein checker flags

Mac Dre Gumbo

[Da Unda Dogg]

Whassup boy?

[Mac Dre]

What’s happening playa, just sitting here, you know

Putting together some of that ghetto gumbo, you know

[Da Unda Dogg]

Some motherfucking gumbo?

[Mac Dre]

Yeah nigga, gum in the mother fuck bo

[Da Unda Dogg]

Like that there?

[Mac Dre]

Yeah, I got my niggas in here, we finna put it down

You know what I’m saying, real, real special

You know? Check it out, like this here

[Verse1: Mac Dre]

As I get to bustin’

This introduction

Of mind corruption

And rhyme seduction

I steal and fill brains

With game and mo’ thangs

Like them dope thangs

And what that hoe brang

Creep on Crest streets

Speak on fresh beats

Hit the motel, and freak on fresh sheets

And wet sheets, is the end result

Been killing long cock since ten years old

See I blend this old-game with this new

And ain’t no telling what a bitch will do

Now picture you

In my position

Steady getting sweated by the opposition

Could you handle

All this scandal

And keep on stepping like boots and sandals

My handle, is young Mac Dre

Silky slim, is my A.K.A

And you know that bay is my rompin’ grounds

I mean stompin’ grounds

But I like the way Rompin’ sounds

So I’m a keep it

Romp related

And if it ain’t down with the romp, I hate it

[Verse2: JT the Bigga Figga]

Well let me jump into the pot with all the hustlers and players

Chop potatoes with Phillie faders, Knocking niggas with Tre Eights

But now I

See my niggas at the spot with the session

Illegal product

Then people plotted, rotted with no confessions

Smith and Wessons

Demonstrations with Fully Autos, actin’

Conversations at the lab to keep the trackers trackin’

Double backin’ to the spot where all the money filter

Keep it on the down low

You never tell about your scrilla

On the reala

I breaks it down in all directions

It’s the Fillmoe players with the O

And the Crest connection

All in the session with my folks, You know they got the Dolo

Hit the gateway tracks, like some fiends in a forward Volvo

Bought a Bolo

Seen Kelly, mashed off, and then we hollered

Trailing Coolio and Mac Dre in a green Impala

Getting cloudy

The laboratorys just like a porny

Got a patient

Cousin Quinn is making the shit get saramani

Hella fetti

We ready, steady, with all the bumbles

Keeping it real with Dangerous Dame and Mac Mall in this fucking gumbo

Straight paper

Straight fetti

Straight gumbo

[Verse3: Dangerous Dame]

Niggas we pull

Niggas will say so

We hit the strip from San Jose, to Vallejo

Make more scrilla by the mouth piece

Non-talking niggas don’t know shit about me

Ignore ’em like bitches

Respect

There ain’t a hand out

Like a sore thumb, fake niggas always stand out

Player hater prayer

Praying that I buckle everyday

Ain’t worth five cents, or my knuckles to the face

But my burners ain’t feeling no flesh

If you niggas wanna test

Let it jump and we could put the shit to rest

You thinking deeply

But I be on service like a shark

Consider me that hate, but see I serve you from the heart

’cause love loves me

And hate loves me

So what the fuck you think?

You can’t fuck with me

You paying dopefiends, to put ’em to work

But now your money’s gettin’ low

While I be getting low with this wicked flow

You got at me last night

But I wasn’t asking who was bustin’ the trigger

I’m blowing big bomb smoke, yelling “Nothin’ ass nigga”

My pimping ain’t soft

I’m taking no losses

So why the hell do you persist to put me in crosses?

You thought it was shackles, but then they was ropes

And now they’re spider webs

I broke on you hoes

I know what you’re doing before you do it

Got an outside plan, but in the end you’re looking stupid

Huh, yeah

‘Cause Dangerous Dame got ’em riding on the freeway

Actions speak louder

I don’t fuck with he say-she say

Think you got game?

Never could you have it

You niggas are crying wolf, while I’ll be fucking Jessica Rabbit

Straight trading places

But fool this ain’t no dream

You was happy as hell when you had me under your infra red beam

Once again, get low for the East O

Add a little recipe to the gumbo

[Verse4: Da Unda Dogg]

Add me

Mix me up

Stir me in the pot with these niggas that fix me up

See, back in ’91, Coolio was the shit

So now we cooking a batch of gumbo and it ain’t gonna quit

My nigga the Bigga Figga, adding that spice so fool it’s saucy

You bitches thinking you’ll eat for free, well this shit is costly

So back up off me

And recognize the sound is poppin’

Beause we steadily droppin’ dope, like the keys you coppin’

Mother fuckers, they get to actin foul

When they know they can’t fuck with the style

Smile punk mother fucker, sucka, hating bustas

Ain’t no friends when it comes to ends, so you can not trust us

But trust me

You can not dust me, or try and bust me, dumbo

Your ass gets heated in this pot of gumbo

Mac Dre Iz Real

[Messy Marv]

Believe all what you see, and 50% of these tapes

Cause half these rap niggas is fake

Cousin we bang hard even behind bars

With c.o’s and guards, my niggas run the yard

They knocking’ Messy Marv, cause the dope so clean

415, B.G.F, crips, and 14

I’m a top hat rap cat you niggas locals

And couldn’t recognize the game with bi-locals

I’m big shit and operation by a coastle

And the mob woke up when we suppose to

Keep a bitch broke, keep a keep a bitch broke

Keep a bitch broke, keep a keep a bitch broke

Ain’t no jobs niggas so we forced to sale dope

And roll with all gold and chrome on one spoke

I hit yo house party jeweled and bandana

I’m from the Cartel the real Tony’s Montana’s

We put drums and bananas on is real

Hood nut niggas spencing on e pills

I could see the niggas head bitch had him

So I let the 50 cal get with him

I keep it real I don’t rap about fake shit

It’s California man we draw down and take shit

I don’t rap about fake shit this California man we draw down and take shit

[Mac Dre]

Hoop out the coo-nut, change over to the range rover

Mouth full of diamonds spitting like a flame thrower

I ain’t sober I’m ripped and tilted

Half of it the remi but nigga I killed it

Damn near spilt it on my encey cloths

It’s the cutthoat committiee punk we play hoes

20 inch doe, wood grain, leather, strapped riding

With a eagle in the desert

It’s the Mac almighty, Andre Hicks

And ain’t a punk rock bitch that I can’t get

And nigga I can’t trip on making nothing but my scrill

And that is real, like a is pill

And I will kill, put one to yo liver

I’m a pimp nigga taking everything you give up

Flossing while you suckas is starving

I’m eating crab and crust-striations

With my nigga Messy Marvin

Mac Dre I’m A Thug

Yeah yeah

This is a money-motivated song, man, right?

If you’re allergic to paper

You might not fit in when niggaz gon’ have do a caper, man

Yeah

We ain’t allergic to paper, man

So we gon’ try to turn you niggaz around, man

Yamean?

Yeah

We gon’ try to motivate y’all to get your money

Cause we money-motivators

[Verse 1: Dubee]

The way I steer up out this here bitch, so detrimental how a

PS real click with that double r [? ] partner

530, I’m dirty, hate to say it

Represent turf tight and tight with major players

With mo’ seasoning, suckers be sneakin in the circle

Urkle niggaz soakin every line, still ain’t with the verbals

Get to hoppin hurdles like Jesse Owens in the fast

Return-type tactics so quick shakin that past

In they entourage bitches be hazy like the samurais

Get the mullah, stay savage and suave

Now is that savage? Well certainly

Still I keep it global

Multiple skyscraper paper, unknown total

Who we? Who that be? Dubee, ask your peoples

I leave Sasqwatch footprints and keep it off the heezo

Cizzo please, it ain’t no need in hawkin

Ain’t no please believe, I breathe [? ] back – yamean?

[Chorus]

The way I feel about loot

Ooh, it ain’t no doubt about it

I’m a thug

[Verse 2: PSD]

Say how you do, sir?

Well, everything is everything, how ’bout you, brah?

Man, I’m tryin to get my paws on some loot, sir

If it ain’t scratch it ain’t shit, how ’bout you, sir?

Yeah that’s the truth, brah

Say I’m a natural, call me 7-11

Playboy, it’s factual, I stay high as the heaven

I’m like the castle

On the chess boards slide front to backwards

Up and down, side to side, boy, we at this

Me, Dre and Dubee savages in the masses

They call my type of people roguish-ass bastards

I pull a babe in and tell her flip the matress

And get the cash quick

Now player listen, this ain’t no test of your broadcast system

Them niggaz PSD and them be comin with em

It ain’t no puzzle how I feel about my scrillas

Gotta feed my chil’ens

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Mac Dre]

At the building, chilling, living anxious

Waitin for this bitch to deliver some papers

The same routine every day

Get hit then I split the Chevrolet

The 4 15’s shake the mirror

When the EB’s quake couldn’t sound no clearer

Feelin so cool in my old school

Ain’t trippin off a bitch, I need some mo’ loot

Oh, you ain’t know you better check my file

I get stupid doo-doo dumb, don’t sweat the style

Me and my niggaz represent the real

Don’t think we kill? Bet a 100 dollar bill

I’m a leave a body, no leads or clues

Clepto committee, bitch, we some fools

Killas for the scrilla, sucker, can’t you tell?

The real motherfuckers representin Vallejo

Mac Dre Bleezies-N-Heem

[Mac Dre talking]

Hello my friend, How you do my friend? What would you like?

Yes, what would you like?

I want uh… pack of backwoods… pack of backwoods

Give me a fifth of that privelege hennessy and uh… that’s it

Thank you very very much

[Verse 1]

What you know about me? I’m Mac Dreezy

Call Hennessy, Heem, and a blunt a Bleezy

I keep a fat sack wrapped in a backwood leave

Smoke trees that make me look Japanese

Green seedless, mean when I’m weedless

Never in denial, I’m a fiend and I need this

Any day is a bad day for Mac Dre

When he ain’t got it, they ask why he act that way

I smoke champ, cush and [? ]

Man what’s [? ], bomb and sprayed

I can’t fade a beezy who can keep a bleezy

Rolled for a neezy, I ask her What the feezy?

I gotta have weed, to go get weed

You don’t like it, kiss my ass till your lips bleed

This ones for the club so I’m kinda like keeping it clean

Sing it with me ya’ll, bleezies-N-heem,

[Chorus x2]

I gots to have my dope

Every where I go

When they ask me what’s my drank

I say heem and what you thank

[Verse 2]

I L-O-V-E H double E-M

I drink like ten of them things that swim

He’s heeming again is what they say when I come around

I’ll get dumb drunk and fuck up your compound

Your building your establishment

Mobbin’ saying cuddie I’m hella bent

Oh what a feeling when your looking at the ceiling

And it’s spinning and the earl starts spilling

I drink heem when I perk don’t like Erk and Jerk

It don’t work, when a nigga chillin’

Might spill it on my Abercrombie Fitch

Know I got the man not the liquor store witch

Well baby would you please run and get

Me another hennessy Fifth

Bleezies-N-Heem…

[Chorus]

Fire up, let’s get drunk

Get your cup fill it up, don’t be no punk

A party ain’t a party if every damn body

Ain’t lifted, and a little bit tipsy

But don’t drink and drive, I remember one time

My cuddie joogy, wrapped this fifty, rap this with me

And if you don’t understand

You a inbred, your daddy and your uncle was the same man

I gotta have dope, every where I go

When they ask me what I drank, I say heem what you thank?

I gets heem in me, only substitute is remy

In Sac with Jimmy, or in Portland with Kenny

I’m danked out, drank out, can’t talk, can’t count

If I want some more I’m making baby pull her bank out

Who own a bomb boy? What do you mean?

Sing it to him ya’ll, bleezies-N-heem

[Chorus x2]

Mac Dre All Damn Day

[Verse 1]

Microphone check let me get to the beat

Dedicated to you bitches, let me spit to you freaks

I’m gonna serve it to you straight a little something like this

Not one of those niggas that be liking to kiss

There’s no telling what your tongue licks, it might be big dicks

So you better try kissing on them other tricks

‘Cause [? ] I like to ball hog

I know you love what I shove and thrust up in your cock…

All damn day

[Chorus]

All damn day ho

All damn day ho (I’m gonna rock this motherfucka all night ya’ll)

All damn day ho

All damn day ho (I’m gonna rock this motherfucka all night ya’ll)

[Verse 2]

I’m MD and mackin’ is my duty

So when I step to you girl and tap you on your big booty

And start spittin’ some pimpin’ ass serious shit

Don’t even start trippin’ on how freaky you get

It’s just a gift to G-A-B, to get to your P-A-D

Bash in your ass, inside of the B-E-D

Bust a 415 and not the 012

Now you fiending for more, but you wait ’til I call you

See some of these niggas cold want you to jock ’em

Stupid motherfuckas, but I can’t knock ’em

I just wanna bash ho, and only get cash ho

You want Dre to stay and lay, but I have to pass ho

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]

‘Cause that lovey dovey shit just ain’t gon’ get it

When I pick you up to fuck, I straight hit it and quit it

And you don’t trip because the sexin’ is good, I be wreckin’ ’em good

And they be back in the hood

Tellin’ my cuddies how cool it was

Now another romp player might give you a buzz

Young C-U-R-T, or maybe young Marty

Or my homeboy J might be your type of party

Who ever it is, they gon’ get with you bitch

And don’t even think they gon’ sit with you bitch

No talkin’ and walkin’ ’cause that shit is funny style

You pay me and lay me and when I take your money I’ll…

Spend that shit all damn day

[Chorus]

[Verse 4]

I’m hard but saucy bitch back on off me

Steady tryin’ to toss me, ho smell the coffee

I gave you some ho, did not cum though

Your too damn dumb ho, what you actin’ sprung fo’?

I’m hard to get with, pimperistic

I want your lipstick on top of my dick tip

I’m from the V-A double L E-J

O and you know ho, the things that we say

Are simple and plain, nothing but game

And if you ain’t up on it Mac Dre is the name

I want a fat ass joint of that potent zesty

And a thick chocolate bitch whose name is Nestle

From the C-R-E-S-T, ’cause that’s where the best be

Suckas get jealous and they try to test me

So I carry a nine all the time

Dope raps I rhyme, this is how I grind

Making stacks of cash, down to wax that ass

A nigga ready to blast a muthafucka real fast

Dickin’ the ho’s, never lickin’ the ho’s

Big black dick is what I stick in the ho’s

I shake ’em, I break ’em, but never will I take ’em

To eat hamburgers let alone some steak and

Lobster, ’cause baby I’m a mobster

You tell your friends how I robbed ya

[Chorus]