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tru 2 this - big mack lyrics

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you betta keep your vest on your chest when i flex
cause n-ggas be coming foul trying to put me to the test
i know what’s next, you wanna see if i’m a g to get my buck on
pistol grip to your dome while i gets my gauge on
looking at me like you looking at a j cat
but stupid tricks ain’t sh-t but hoodrats
laying up in the cuts for a kick back
looking for a n-gga with some scrilla from the fatt sakk
so now we on 3rd h-lla perved
swervin to the motherf-cking curb off that herb
and n-ggas be looking but i don’t be trippin up off that punk sh-t
houses i be browsin, poppin b-tch after b-tch
flip the script as i blaze up a spliff with my n-gga richie rich
we hitting the town letting n-ggas know i shoots the gift
you see me, i be from the sucka free
and ain’t a out of town g that can chuck with the
three hundred pound n-gga from the mack bay
i’m hitting switches, i’m blazing spliffs, i’m taking your b-tches away
to the top with my glock, your n-gga can’t be stopped
so peep game while you waiting for my album to drop

[chorus]
i’m so sick when it comes to this
1-8 to the 7 mic murdering sh-t
i’m so sick with this
big mack that n-gga that’s gonna rip the f-cking stacks
i’m so sick when it comes to this
1-8 to the 7 mic murdering sh-t
i buck em buck em down with my gauge, i’m getting paid
big mack, fatt sakk n-gga peep the flav

rule motherf-cking one, time to have some fun
i blaze another j, smashin up the motherf-cking way foo’
i’m so sick with this, i’m so true to this
i grab the mic and pop the clip and release this gangsta sh-t
yeah, i’m down with the k!llahoe
steel toed boots with my troops knocking down your door
huh, so peep out this m-n-script hp sucka free never trusting a b-tch
about my grip, yeah, i gots to keep my scrilla on
my motherf-cking money makes me put my chrome to your dome
so now it’s on and we up in my n-gga’s benz
j.c., fly nate, and my n-gga rich
droppin bombs on this f-ck for your trunk
so n-gga blaze up the skunk and watch me tear sh-t up
i’m like that n-gga that don’t give a f-ck
that n-gga that’ll snap your neck quick
don’t trip, cause i’m mackin your b-tch and stackin my grip
don’t trip, cause i’m spitting sh-t and making hits
tearing up the strip with this big mack sh-t
yeah, just like the sound when my glock goes pop
peep game while you waiting for my album to drop

[chorus]

i buck and dodge, i creep but i never crawl
i start the funk cause i’m known as this town’s dog
now it’s the b-i-g, the m the a to the c
you can never f-ck around with this big cuban beat, and uh
sucka mothaf-ckas betta pucker up
these b-tches on my team cause your n-gga’s checking green
uh, perpetrator, punk player hater
you better grab your tec before i regulate like darth vader
for the playas, not the playa haters
ain’t none of you got no game like me
ain’t none of you got no flava, save a m-th-f-ckin hoe
and this is how we operate when we in the ‘sco
rippin off of indo, car full of blunt smoke
reaching for the window cause a n-gga’s about to choke
but i take another hit before i get to p-ss
ain’t trippin bout the paper but a n-gga put in half

[chorus] – 2x

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