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de MAC Streetz

Uh, check
Fast money off of bags that I passed junkies
Pull your bitch and I smash she a crash dummy
Your racks bummy, I stay fly in the finest
Keep tools move in silence where it's wild violence
Stay wise try to find solace
Lil' niggas lose hope cause they folks smoke coke then solid
It's fucked but I'm still out for profit
Love the dough like chris wallace
Slick posture, drug flip scholar, trick nada
Make em' sniff out of crisp dollars
Till they freeze up, keep freaks on they knees suckin' my seed up
I'm re'd-up by the bodega started with small weight came up now my dough flow major
Nobody gave me shit bitch I'm doing no favors
Semi-auto with the lasers, blast turn ya face to mashed potatoes
Blow the cartridge like the old sega
If you owe paper, roll shakers
Life's a dice game, my minds enticed by a vice you want stripes, a million dollars or an iced chain
Or all three been raw since niggas wore tore tees
Nobody fuckin' with the lord streetz
(Nobody)

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