Mase

Mase - Gettin' It lyrics

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[Mase]
 How 'my complain  na?
 When I'm as pretty as my father?
 And he got 60 hoes (60 hoes?)
 That know each other (yeah)

 Yo  I'm the problem nigga's got  but scared to step to it
 If a nigga really want it with me? Let's do it
 See cats in the club  it's just music
 Thieves and killers'll tell ya  I just proved it
 I set the tone  ya nigga's adjust to it
 Spit bars  nigga's do sets and rep's to it
 I'm the type that get 30 years and rep through it
 Want it wit' us? Come put your best to it
 Come clean now, I'll send these tests to it
 I should get a Nike contract the way I "Just Do It"
 You know I hide B's on it
 Come on B.S. and leave on it
 Get 50 grand and breathe on it
 Red dot, squeeze on it, drop keys on it
 Might hit a chicken and then put Cease on it
 Cats get greed in war with the heat of they jaw
 Somebody move wrong, I put they teeth on the floor
 If they don't show you where the coke at, beat 'em some more
 Make 'em see how it feel to have to eat through a straw
 While I'm sittin' in the car, chick goin' to get my jar
 So I greet them like the chicken they are
 Said Shorty, if you ever follow me and spit a clip in my car
 Tell ya now, that's like lynchin' the law
 Ain't no gettin' up if I hit you
 So all them cowards wanna ride with you
 They either die with you, or lie cripple
 Mess with me, now why would you?
 Nigga's die dealin' with dough that's quadruple
 Double Up

 1 - [Mase & Flex]
 Where all my down super star's at? (Gettin' it)
 Where the cats at the barn at? (Gettin' it)
 Where the 90 girls that? (Gettin' it)
 Where the girls around the world at? (Gettin' it)

 Real hair, real furs (Gettin' it)
 Got a house that's hers (Gettin' it)
 For my niggas outta town at (Gettin' it)
 Can't forget my niggas locked down at
 (Gettin' it, uh huh)

 [Mase]
 Yo, it's like some be real, sold me three and squeal
 Some hold they head, some see appeal
 Some come home wild in the week to kill
 Then show old cats young cats be real
 Deep throat be how I greet my chick
 Any hoe suck a dick, got at least a six
 Any man call me fam', got at least a brick
 Shut the whole morgue down just for Easter kicks
 When I'm down and out and I need the chips
 Vietnam will be how I leave your script
 And it take dough just to reach the rich
 So can't no senator impeach my ssshhhhhh
 And don't rush to be somethin' that you're not
 Reworn up lies, keep guns cocked
 And any cat mess with us get one shot
 To do what he gotta do and get somethin' hot
 Blaque, back up, what what
 Blaque, back up, All Out
 (Where you at? Where you at?)

 Repeat 1

 [Mase]
 Yo, please don't make Murda live out the name
 I'm only here to get enough, then I'm out the game
 A nigga didn't want drama, why he came?
 It's like tryin' to win, know you cross the grain
 Messin' with my niggas, ya'll will both get the same
 Cut 'cross the face, now you both look the same
 Still wanted for the bricks, took up in Maine
 Run up for ya chain, fifth cop aim
 Please don't be stupid, come out the chain
 Don't be a hero, this clip will bang
 A nigga like Mase probably got everything
 X-30 G's, then why buy a plane?
 No skinny Benz's, wide-bodied things
 Four dot, six dot, chick dot Range
 Uh, All Out (c'mon)
 Bad Boy, Double Up
 (Where you at? Where you at? Where you at?)
 It's not a game

 Repeat 1
 Repeat 1

 Come on, Come on
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Bad Boy Records (5)

Details:

Released in: 1999

Language: English

Appearing on: Double Up (1999)

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