Seventeentimes
I dumped seventeen times...
Niggas don't want none
Tired of these problems
Can't call me a pimp...
Why?
Because I actually love my mama
So call me The Mac
Paper need to be stack
In a lac with cream interior, chrome rims, candy black
Old school cragars
In a way that is major
Having a ball with all the hustlers, ballers and players
Gold daytons
In a town with no hating
Drank in my cup as I swang wide and roam crazy
No mistaken
61 hella hot but it's 12 o clock
P's in 3's made me nervous, I had to shake the spot
Find a freak outta country club that know how to take the cock
Then head on home, whip the work then make it lock
Fighting for what's mines
Fuck the time that I'm gonna be missing
Thinking about weed and money, don't got time for sneak dissing
Got a freak in position, no time for tongue kissing
Make her come to her mind to realize what the fuck she been missing
Now I'm breaking pockets, they don't even try to stop me
Tell me to shut the fuck up, here's a couple hunnid then give me toppy
Bumping Willie, thinking about painting the lac like that
I brought the drank and sprite, where the fucc the ice at.
Now I'm riding in this car with a nigga and some rats in the trunk
That's what his ass get thinking I'm gonna get rob by some punk
Sic wit this
The infamous
Winter enter the center with no swine on mine, Mr. Militant
Quadjay. and. a 44 nigga
The brothers that catch someone slipping, happy we don't know the nigga
Situation got wild, bloaw put 4 to the nigga
Tried to style when we was just finna close in on the nigga
Blaze under the shade, trynna get paid
A young black man lost in his ways
Kriss kross in a daze
Keep composure
Ain't worry about closure
Just chief, smoking up this kief in this doja
Tammy turn tricks for somas
Mary sing for chicken wraps
And a old man stand on a corner
Stating that he kicking facts
With a gang that yelling getting back
America looking at the scoreboard
Talking about different stats
Destroying homes, they ain't care how we was living bad
They taking our hood, why aren't we yelling give it back
Fucc it I hit a lick for the 50 racks
Straight to the banks with the 50 laugh
Took his pounds, sold it back to his brother, call that a extra 50 stacks
Chill
Smooth face with a beard
Old man, fuck rookie of the year
I'm like Number 1 contender that every nigga fear
Call me the rap Undertaker, peace to the Gravediggaz
A made nigga that make sure everyone on lock and behave nigga
You must've been from a cave with ya
Attitude that leave everyone doom, you a new slave nigga
I got nothing else to say to ya
Niggas don't want none
Tired of these problems
Can't call me a pimp...
Why?
Because I actually love my mama
So call me The Mac
Paper need to be stack
In a lac with cream interior, chrome rims, candy black
Old school cragars
In a way that is major
Having a ball with all the hustlers, ballers and players
Gold daytons
In a town with no hating
Drank in my cup as I swang wide and roam crazy
No mistaken
61 hella hot but it's 12 o clock
P's in 3's made me nervous, I had to shake the spot
Find a freak outta country club that know how to take the cock
Then head on home, whip the work then make it lock
Fighting for what's mines
Fuck the time that I'm gonna be missing
Thinking about weed and money, don't got time for sneak dissing
Got a freak in position, no time for tongue kissing
Make her come to her mind to realize what the fuck she been missing
Now I'm breaking pockets, they don't even try to stop me
Tell me to shut the fuck up, here's a couple hunnid then give me toppy
Bumping Willie, thinking about painting the lac like that
I brought the drank and sprite, where the fucc the ice at.
Now I'm riding in this car with a nigga and some rats in the trunk
That's what his ass get thinking I'm gonna get rob by some punk
Sic wit this
The infamous
Winter enter the center with no swine on mine, Mr. Militant
Quadjay. and. a 44 nigga
The brothers that catch someone slipping, happy we don't know the nigga
Situation got wild, bloaw put 4 to the nigga
Tried to style when we was just finna close in on the nigga
Blaze under the shade, trynna get paid
A young black man lost in his ways
Kriss kross in a daze
Keep composure
Ain't worry about closure
Just chief, smoking up this kief in this doja
Tammy turn tricks for somas
Mary sing for chicken wraps
And a old man stand on a corner
Stating that he kicking facts
With a gang that yelling getting back
America looking at the scoreboard
Talking about different stats
Destroying homes, they ain't care how we was living bad
They taking our hood, why aren't we yelling give it back
Fucc it I hit a lick for the 50 racks
Straight to the banks with the 50 laugh
Took his pounds, sold it back to his brother, call that a extra 50 stacks
Chill
Smooth face with a beard
Old man, fuck rookie of the year
I'm like Number 1 contender that every nigga fear
Call me the rap Undertaker, peace to the Gravediggaz
A made nigga that make sure everyone on lock and behave nigga
You must've been from a cave with ya
Attitude that leave everyone doom, you a new slave nigga
I got nothing else to say to ya
Credits
Writer(s): Johnathan King
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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