I mean, you would to If you looked like this [Pre-Hook:] Ay yo today I'm on my fly shit... Ay yo you see me on my fly shit, naw they ain't never styling
allmenn uzi, 44 and a handgranade Threw us in the county high power block No freaks to see no beats to rock Didn't want trouble but the shit must fly
I cramp your style With a bullet and a smile Ugh, niggas on the D-l casin' me out Truckin' my jewels, feelin' for the tools When they come they gots
back, bounce, bounce back Bounce back, bounce, bounce back I'm 'bout to bounce back, bounce, bounce back You ever had corns on your finger from squeezin' a Mac
, don't think sauce the shit So many niggaz on my nuts I thought I lost my dick Picture me fallin' off, I'm camera shy Hammers fly, might miss you, but
Boy, look like a Mack truck, shooters ride wit' that Mac tucked I'm a Bad Boy, bitch, ask Puff, Simpson-Rodgers, my last cup On this shit, I can't stand
So pardon my disposition Why should I listen to a system that never listened to me? Picture me working McDonald's I'd rather pull a mac on you Sorry Ms
Royce Da 5'9" please tell me why! Why the fuck these niggaz gon' let us get together and do this shit to 'em It's so fuckin unfair! Shit is so unfair! [
I let the muh'fuckin mac-11 hack everything under the neck off Used to be a problem child now I'm a problem grown up I done done some evil shit and
Port Arthur, Texas to the fullest Who the fuck know you nigga? Don't nobody know you but your mama ho ass nigga Move around nigga I'm some on P-A shit
Brother, lemme get in ya ear You know what time it is, crime it is, no matter what rhyme it is We gon' stay fly, hit lye, rock diamond shits Based on
vials Especially that, aluminum bat in the act Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly
sick, don't think Sauce the shit So many niggaz on my nuts I thought I lost my dick Picture me fallin' off, I'm camera shy Hammers fly, might miss you
my escape Out the skins, in this world of fly girls Tanqueray and Hennessey until I cold hurl Ten months in this gut, what the fuck I wish moms'd hurry
'll tell you to face, you ain't nothing shit but a faker So fill the alazhay with a chaser 'Bout to get murdered for the paper E D I, I mean post the
cents And let my balls hang like I'm on a toilet takin' a shit My style is all that, and a big bag of chips wit' the dip Fuck all that sensuous shit,
you heard Shit is realer than you think, you niggaz must be slow (Say word) Word, you best to act like you know It's that real nigga shit from Fat Joe
