Mail time

Two local mail carriers are in big trouble
And not for putting mail in the wrong box
They attempted to turn the United States Mail
Service into the delivery service for narcotics

Look now I'm fresh up out that dungeon
Went back to southeast with some money
I had Clay Street doing numbers
Made that shit jump like a monkey
I'ma really miss my junkies
Turned a couple of them to my flunkies
Had them walking to that store
Walking back and forth like a zombie

Bitches come dime a dozen
They ain't no reason to tussle
Niggas hating on me for pussy
On A-Rod that shit ain't about nothing
I'ma hit the J till I'm buzzing
Now I'm getting cooked like an oven
And if this shit about to get ugly
I better I let it ring like a husband

I'm in southeast with them dudes
Around here they love them blues
Went through water like a harpoon
I will draw like a cartoon
Air him out like a balloon
Off the tree like a baboon
Getting head like a shampoo
Getting head head head

Ayy fuck with me
I got it all I'm worried about is deposits
On A-Rod I'm trying see profit
I'm still making noise like a toddler and
I got lean in my bottle
Now I'm getting sleepy like hollow
I still walk the rip like a model
I still walk walk walk ayy ayy

I'm down to rock and roll do my thing then
I roll out I get drugs in large amounts and
I pull it out like a couch but
I'm getting tired of this drought
I be dozing off scaling out
I got my name on that south
I was giving law no doubt

I will read a nigga like books
I will pick his ass like a bush
Then this bitch gon' give me that look now
I'm in her house like a crook
I be in her box like a douche
Had her singing like a hook
And these niggas think it's checkers
Nigga this shit chest like a rook

Wake me up when it's over
I ain't waking up till I'm sober
I still serve up Motorola's
Throw that rock up like I'm Hova
I got motion and they know it
And them boot J's I'm still blowing now
I'm fighting a couple of cases
Man I'm mad as hell I pulled over

I got Molly all in my belly
I wear Air Forces like Nelly
Going back and forth to them tellies
Trying to get my bread like a deli
I be quick to drop my addy and
I'm with it nigga I'm ready
Tote them irons like a caddy tote them irons irons irons



Credits
Writer(s): Bob Molly
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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