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the mac - kamaiyah lyrics

[intro: kamaiyah]
show a little love to mac dre, ayy
show a little bit of love to mac wanda, ayy
show a little love to mac dre, ayy
show a little bit of love to mac wanda, ayy
from the bay, show a little love to mac dre
f*ck the police, get to stompin’ on a honda, ayy
show a little love to mac dre, ayy
pop a molly, get to smokin’ marijuana (keep it lit)

[chorus: kamaiyah]
started makin’ bank, got lots of haters
gettin’ dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper
countin’ up bread, it’s not a pay cut
got dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper
big bentley coupe, this b*tch is sp*cious
gettin’ dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper
i’ma keep mobbin’ with all my day*ones
’bout dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper

[verse 1: kamaiyah]
you say we’s friends, but you not the homie, ayy
ho, i could tell, how you hatin’ on me, ayy
i wear chanel, got frеsh makeup on me, ayy
my shooter tеll and he stinkin’, homie, ayy
rich b*tch, got like four whips, ayy
you broke as sh*t, ain’t got no chips, ayy
arm, neck, wrist frozen, ayy
i’m so eastside oakland, ayy
i do what i wanna, watch me bend the corner
f*ck opd, f*ck around, start doin’ donuts
tonight, you f*ckin’ me, i forget it in the mornin’
got the city litty every time a n*gga showin’ up
went stupid on sh*t and i ain’t slowed up
big gold chain, gold rings, now it’s froze up
i f*ck with it all day, i be on one
glock in my purse, i won’t change, i don’t trust no one
[chorus: kamaiyah]
started makin’ bank, got lots of haters
gettin’ dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper
countin’ up bread, it’s not a pay cut
got dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper
big bentley coupe, this b*tch is sp*cious
gettin’ dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper
i’ma keep mobbin’ with all my day*ones
’bout dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper

[verse 2: mistah f.a.b.]
punk rock, asked me to go grocery shop
no siree, bob, i’m in the mob, that’s not my job
you know whatty? i do it for the cuddy
thizz face in a b*tch face, that snow bunny
game on v**gr*, i go hard
and i treat my b*tch like an atm card
won’t buy her goyard nor a birkin bag
save the drama for your mama, you’re not worth all that
dust myself off like i just stole third
talk baseball when you’re in the presence of nerds
gee willikers, jiminy crickets, and them shenanigans
i’m dipped in b*tter, fly as a mannequin
saucy, fresh as a manicure, ooh
throwback dope era, tracksuit is velour
and i’m still s*t*u*p*i*d
and i own the club, i don’t need id, yee
[chorus: kamaiyah]
started makin’ bank, got lots of haters
gettin’ dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper
countin’ up bread, it’s not a pay cut
got dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper
big bentley coupe, this b*tch is sp*cious
gettin’ dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper
i’ma keep mobbin’ with all my day*ones
’bout dolla*la*la*la, lots of paper

- kamaiyah lyrics

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