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maccin’ to slob bitches - bloods & crips lyrics

intro: do or die:

yeah huh, this some of that g*ass crip sh*t, you know what i’m sayin’, fuccin’ with ’em slob*ass b*tches, fuccin’ ’em and leavin’ ’em wrecced, from the c*side, haha, so uh, sparkle the mothafuccin’ chronic joint, roll it

verse 1: do or die:

yo, i’ve been rippin’ the cheeks of thousand b*tches quickly
never see a b*tch in this world ever did me
and i been fuccin’ slob b*tches on the daily
fuccin’ ’em so well now them slob b*tches pay me
’cause it’s c on them nights on the ‘shaw
i’m fuccin’ them switches like they never seen before
slob b*tches jocc so i let ’em succ my dicc
and bust a good nut all over that burgundy sh*t
like cuddy mary, with nut in her hairy
tw*t then leave her on the ‘shaw at the spot
for the next n*gga to wreck that b*tch
then roll to the ave. for another slob chicc
she belongs to a b*tch*made n*gga slob
but she likes to slob on this crip’s kn*b
then go back to that punk redrum
let his ass simp but won’t give none
as i leave, hittin’ them switches
bumpin’ that c side, maccin’ to them slob b*tches
yeah, huh, maccin’ to them slob b*tches
maccin’ to them slob*ass b*tches
verse 2: blue ragg:

smaccin’, slappin’, maccin’ to you slob b*tches
makin’ you hold, to make me some riches
’cause i don’t give a d*mn about a snoop tramp
fiendin’ for my dicc like joe you finnin’ to get in
but hold up you little tricc sl*t
i gives a d*mn about your big ol’ burgundy b*tt
i take my size nine and keep ridin’ the ass
hard, swift, smoove, quicc and fast
to let you know how i wrecc a snoop hoe
put you on the corner to make me some dough
in fat ass not to least three a guap
you come short, b*tch, you get a cranium knocced
that’s gonna take at least nine stitches
i’m movin’ to yo’ friends, still maccin’ to you slob b*tches
aw yeah, still maccin’ to you slob b*tches

verse 3: mr. c*rider (dj battlecat):

huh, yeah, c*rider on the motherfuccin’ mic, checc it out
bring the vinegar and (?) and all that sh*t
i want you squeaky clean from head to toe and under the tips
then i slap you bleeding b*tch like the one of behinds
i like your booty naked bendin’ over from behind
little dead riding hood i know you wanna succ
cummin’ fast as my dicc succ a boom fucc
hoe, i got you now so it’s all this time this dicc is mine
it’s my favorite sets is crip (inaudible: sammy one to find)
that’s how i’m livin’ in the year ’93’s a tramp
and how you live in doggy sh*t with your footsteps
talkin’ about come back to me
i dig you and your homies from all (?) see huh
that’s wrong with this n*gga at no cuts, stickin’ her ass, succin’ her feet, and maneuvre out the cut of a truck
and then maneuvre (?) change the rich, that’s what’s wrong when you slip in then you triccin’, liccin’ the ass of a slob b*tch
yeah, n*gga, maccin’ to you slob b*tches
mothafuccin’ c*rider on you mothafuccin’ knucclehead b*tches
verse 4: og sin loc blaccburn:

i guess it’s about a b*tch, that sin loc, has been to fucc with
dippin’ and dabbin’, rollin’ in my mothafuccin’ ’66 buccet
maccin’ to a b*tch in red
and if i get the p*ssy when i finish, i’mma put one in her forehead
i guess it’s part of the trade
with the b*tch drinkin’ up nut, like thunderbird and kool*aid
i know you like the hennessh*t
a down*ass crip n*gga maccin’ to some slob b*tches
aw yeah, maccin’ to some slob b*tches
straight maccin’ to some slob b*tches

verse 5: og domino:

now me and some of the homies from the hood were in a g thang
rollin’ up to the compton swap meet for some b*i*t*c*hes yeah b*tches
the kind*ass flammin’ wearin’ hairy fly switches
hopped out the wagon c*rads on the gold ones
and i’m fucced up still sippin’ on a cold one
claimin’ (?) locs see a little proper
but she ain’t sh*t ’cause i already popped her
so i finally see a new b*tch to fool but she trippin’
sportin’ that chicago bullsh*t
i approached her thinkin’ it ain’t no thang but godd*mn
the b*tch had a red shoestring
is she one of those visit to a g
these kinda b*tches look for givin’ vd
she’s from the stangin’ side so you know it don’t clicc
tramp*ass sl*tty*ass slob*ass biatch!

- bloods crips lyrics

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