madness - maccyp lyrics
[verse 1]
b*tch you done slept on the me and the team
pull up to your crib in the gmc
feel like i live in the b&b
papaver come in with the heat on the beat
keep a few keys in the back
pay for my gang man put it in my tab
k!llin’ this sh*t with the candles lit
for when you talk smack
cause you gin get hit
man cause the rats, with the kicks
and the bats, hittin’ l!cks
for a laugh, with a b*tch
in the caddy, and still couldn’t hit it from the back
no wheels, whole lotta gas
no ice still gettin’ ass
hot deals bring it on back
pay for my sh*t with cash
yeah i’m the sh*t no cap
out on the road so stay on your toes
sayin’ hey to my hoes when i do*si*do
up to ya front door, man you know how it go
yeah i’ll take some more, i’ll see you on the low
cover my head
ignite my neck
‘preme on my chest
when i’m in the set
rumors they spread
the secret kept
man the less i give the more i get
the lesson learned is hold your bet
man it’s all too easy for some they rest
but they can’t say the same when you in their head, like
steady aim, right
to yo brain, i’m
coping with the fact that i’m to blame
trained to help with pain i’ll aid your cranium
vibrations in the stadium
we the saddest patriots
we the craziest motherf*ckers you done heard about
we the psilocybin steady vibin’ kings of underground
(verse 2)
imma hoi polloi boy who makes moi money
more than a toy bringing joy to a playboy
model with throttles employed by a common sodder
big bottles of crown royal enjoyed with my partners
i offer a start to a darker part of a larger picture
sit and ponder about a prosperous author
who’s mother and father smothered a dollar
to cover their honor in a bothered manner of suffering
a proper man would pop a beggar
to cop a better future for himself and his other kin
need an oven mitt to f*ckin’ touch me
cause i’m burning up
i’m serving up alerts to all the ugly actin
pistol packin’, matter tappin’
yeah what’s happenin’ havin’ ass rats
matter of fact i’ll drag my feet
to let you lap around me and think
that you catching up
i got the 606 bumpin’ all my tracks
while i’m at it, b*tch i’ve had it
bring an automatic blow a patek
off a static blah blah blah rapper
can it cause a traumatic habit
is a classic graphic example of trashing survival tactics
f*ck your status, bringing havoc
it don’t matter, when it’s drastic
silver platter, fork is plastic
flip the chapter, you can have it
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