me with a birds-eye view So you betta back up, back up 'fore a nigga straight have to act up, act up Stand in this thang wit' the mac up, mac up ... 10
sing back, leave her Get your old ting back I don't know why you even started to link that You need to listen to me jammer, chips and frisk Forget the beef, allow the big Mac
Off They Lip Every Rapper Is A Clapper Your Producer Is A Shooter Engineer Gotta Nine Label Boss Gotta Ruger Yeah Right We Ain't Stupid We Don't Believe These Losers Gotta Mac
, nigga! (This is how we ride) Up and down, Gratiot (ride); my, Gratiot niggaz (ride) Up and down the Van (ride); Van Dyke, niggaz (riiiide) Up and down, Mac; Mac
need me I will be nearby, mountain high, valley low (Uhh, uhh, uhh) It depends on the type of men you keep in your regime And when it's beef, just how
you I promise it's nothin for your family to lose you It's just when you speak to me watch ya tone, call the chief on the phone Bring the beef to your
Split your wig and blow your mind out of your soul asshole I only beef with those impeding my cash flow I think things through before lettin the Mac
I grind daily, patriotic like Tom Brady I'm the bomb, baby, 'cuz what I write is beyond crazy I'm the Don with the teflon armor, good karma, Mac Palmer
chubby nigga on the scene I used to have the tre duce And the deuce deuce in my bubblegoose Now i got a mac in my knapsack Loungin' black, smoking sacks
bein' scared of a nigga That breathe the same air as me Niggas bleed just like us Picture me bein' shook we can both pull burners Make the motherfuckin' beef
time to apply it now Pick out a quiet town and tie it down Make niggaz lock it down, y'all know where to buy it now Beanie Mac I supply it now My squad
' minor figures Now they heard you blowin' up like nitro And they wanna stick the knife through your windpipe slow So thank Fame for warnin' me 'cause I'm warnin' you I got the mac
routine since 13 A chubby nigga on the scene I used to have the trey deuce and a deuce deuce in my bubblegoose Now I got the mac in my knapsack Loungin
said, "He ain't make it" Mom Dukes cryin, baby mom full of grief How she gonna tell her son his daddy is deceased? Now she got beef with them bitches
Haircut cute, on tops and garters like prostitutes My lyrics explicit Got bitches bringin' they own condoms on the first visit If Biggie bring big bowls of beef
what up, and his sister is grown I copped the four-fifth auto, it's pretty with chrome (The day I come home, I need a mink and a brand new Mac) (A few
what One love to hill billys run forever out to Chile' Playin' the cuts nigga what can't stop the willy Cops harassin' niggas blastin' while the day' passin' Time for action cock the mac
Uh uh, uh, uh Ayo, Mac 10's and fake friends Lawyers little game homicide 25 with the fuckin' nigga face 'em But I'm still trill, still holdin' Rollin