It's Mike Jones, back on the track

I pack a gat, when I'm in the 'lac

I wreck a track, title wack

To make sho' my paper stack

If I don't grind, then I don't shine

If I don't shine, I get left behind

I hit the block, stack a knot

And shake the spot for one time

I keep my business on the lo-lo

'Cause haters snitch and tell the po-po

I ride solo in my 4-do

Caren colored coated Volvo

I wreck the mic everywhere I go

My name heard everywhere I go

You tryed to deny but I know you know

You tryed to deny but I know you know

If you wanna get me for a show

Or get me to feature on a flow

Hit 281-330-8004

If you wanna get me for a show

Or get me to feature on a flow

Hit 281-330-8004





Swang the Pacific in the DSR boat

I flip a lil, see these stacks and c-notes

So I'm puttin' diamonds all in ya face

Put on ya shades, VVS's gone glare in ya face

I rock the mic but I wasn't on tools

I eat at places where they call me Mizzu

Sit at the table can't read the menu

Stop the beat, look out the window, watch the rims continue

Tony Montana style, with a slit in my brows

See big rocks on the watch, five thou bling-bloaw

Call me Tum-T, I'm big homie with the rocks

Look at the ear, look at the grill, look at the necks, look at the watch

Tum-T, hood boss, O.G. out the 3

You would think I was Ashanti how the screens Rain On Me

Yeah!, Still Magnificent on the Mike like I was Jones

You lookin' at royalty bitch, go and direct me to the throne





When you see me on the block, I'm on my grind (I'm on my grind)

And when I'm ducked off in the trap it's hustle time (It's hustle time)

I'm bout my paper, bout my cash, I'm bout that green (Bout that green)

I never roll, I'ma soldier, I'll take one for the team

Paul Wall, Swishahouse, Swishablast bout cash

Gotta get up off my ass, cause time fly's fast

Opportunities past but I'm still the same ol' G (Same ol' G)

Reebok's and white-t's, I'm still the same ol' me (Same ol' me)

When you see me at the club, I'm at the bar (I'm at the bar)

And if a gal all in my mix then she a star (She a star)

Pretty face, slim waste, with a coca-cola shape

but she don't want me, she just boppin' off my car (Off my car)

I'ma player, I'ma hustler, I'ma mac (I'ma mac)

Candy paint, swangas on the cadillac (The cadillac)

Paint drippin' kinda damp, Paul Wall the people's champ

I wonder what them haters think about that ('Bout that)





I'ma hood doctor, hit foot locker and grab jerseys

Bust a flow and make hoe's say "Have Mercy"

Like uncle jessie, my trunk is messy

From throwin' haters in it, I'm in a Navigator tinted

My rims spinnin', when I stop they do the wiggle-wiggle

Whip is little, candy paint look like little skittles

I'm in Dallas on that 635

I get brain from 6:30 til 6:35

Make them hoes go-live

New 4's buck-high

Make them hoes hop inside, and expose those thighs

After I nut it's like fuck them boppers

Pull-up, new Maybach truck on choppers

Glad that I made it, it's never been fun of the struggle

'Cause these chips on my shoulders ain't Funyons or Ruffles

Nigga, it's Magno, Mike Jones, Tum-T, Fat B

Fuck it man Perfect Team Part 3

Nigga