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Verse 1 |
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Mack 10 nutty as they come |
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Leave 'em face down |
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And numb from the waist down |
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It's a sunday a gun day |
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Rollin' down a one way |
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In my 'lac front and back |
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Over train tracks |
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On yak and herb nigga swerve |
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It get's on my nerves |
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Banked my danas on the curb |
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In the gutta lane |
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I'm butta man |
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Foot to the flo' |
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What you want from the sto' |
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I'm broke as a muthafucka nigga buy my single |
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Comin' from ingle (foe life) is my jingle |
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Seen yo' bitch at the sto' coulda took her |
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But niggas start to handcuff they hoes like t.j. hooker |
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Fool i'ma vet you can bet |
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That i can dance underwater and not get wet |
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It's the nappy headed nigga that can kill and rap |
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Everybody run when i bust a cap |
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Puttin' inglewood up on the map |
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Look at what i do when i pull my strap |
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Bust 2 rounds nigga about to clown |
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Bitch hit the silent alarm it's goin' down |
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Chorus |
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Foe life foe life |
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Mack 10 comin' through the hood with stripes |
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(repeat) |
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Verse 2 |
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Khacki suit ski mask is my attire |
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With my luck cut my chucks on the barbed wire |
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Fool where ya keep the rims and tires |
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'fo yo' life expires i'm as nutty as michael myers |
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Didn't think about the rottweiler |
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A lot of stiches in the ass |
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Blood in the impala |
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Sittin' in the county with a gold record |
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Ice cube send me pictures of bitches naked |
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Caught with a contraband in my hand |
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Mack 10 take the stand |
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Your honor i'ma changed man |
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So please let me go so i can flow |
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Got a show had to ask my p.o. can i go |
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And if he say no i'ma have to say |
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Bitch get out the car slow |
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And leave ya fuckin' dough |
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'cause a nigga gotta eat fuck the world |
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Let the bullets hurl and feed my baby girl |
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Chorus |
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Verse 3 |
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Call 911 there's a son of a bitch on the roof |
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Yarned up in his birthday suit |
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(mack 10 to the rescue) |
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My momma wanna know why i do what i do |
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'cause i'm superman superbad supermad superfly |
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Fool you can die |
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There's gonna be a lot of cars with they lights on |
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And i'm at home sewing stripes on |
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Cause i'm the general and you's a stowaway |
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'bout to buck you down with this throw away |
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With no serial number it's the summer |
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Where niggas die |
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It's hotter than july |
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You better stay low fo' you get a halo |
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Plus wings and a gown when i come around |
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So take 10 paces |
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And try to guess the color of my shoelaces |
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Chorus with ad libs 'til end |
