Mac Mall

Mac Mall - Klyde, Mall &; Dre songtekst

Je score:

(feat. Rydah J. Klyde)



[talking]

Testin' yea let's do this shit baby

Shit I don't know I can't hear that shit



[Rydah J. Klyde]

You know my niggaz they control the weight

From the Golden State

I hold your fate in the palm of my hand

Wit this here throw away

I empty out and load the K

The lil' figga wit the gun that's bigger than him

It's kinda hard to hold it straight

But still I knock Louie

Seen shit rip through him

Got stooie wit my killa click

Cop, chop shoot him

Like I'm fresh in the game

Just reppin' my name

Young and in love wit the tec when it flame

You know my name

Shit I was on the block

Wit a freshly chop though

Didn't have spinners

I'm out the bag that's my knock bro

Fresh out the box wit the glock though

Plus my niggaz ridin' tonight

Two of ‘em waitin' for that fiend rental to slide through

Then my hustle gon' pause

For this tooly by the muscle in my drawls

Me no tinsel wit y'all

I touch y'all

Half way niggaz rookies

And will never touch raw

Buy the crack and watch me bring the applause

Blocka, Blocka!



[Mac Mall]

Mac-matic slanguistics

Break it down in fractions

Every verse a nigga spit is like a commercial for boss mackin'

When it hit the streets you should just see how they re-actin'

Animal attraction

You fiends is relaxin'

Hit it once and back spin

Mac slap the captain

Body bag the boss man

You don't want it to happen

Cutthroat approach

Leavin' t-shirts soaked

Bust shots at your throw back

Leave hoes where the team go

Valley Joe Crest Coast

Mackin' to the next level

Highly professional

Street level but high post

Ghetto to ghetto

Boonies to barrios

Cess spot turf

Every H double O-D

Meezie and Dreezie make it look easy

Grimy and greezy

Don't make me leave yo moms weepin'

My nigga J. Klyde will leave ‘em where you'll never peep ‘em

All my peoples quick to push that line for they seaman



[Mac Dre]

A few years ago when I used to grind

Police used to fuck wit me all the time

A young Codwell banker

A Gunthy Ranker

Strapped wit thump thanker

A cold drunk tanker

Stupid dumb, mentally disturbed

I used to bother people

And get on people nerves

Standin' on the curb

Trynna get it off

I sell it to ‘em hard

But I buy it from ‘em soft

I'm a felon and a boss

It's funk I spray dude

Dump out the prelude

On them punks and gay dudes

I pay dues

You can't fit Mac Dre shoes

I break laws

And I don't obey rules

I drive wit my L's suspended

Get apprehended

Cop gets commended

Now I'm a defendant

They forcin' me to spend it on fines and fees

P.D. mad cause I'm makin' all kinds of cheese
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Taal: Engels

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