Lyrics
Yeah
What the hell is she talking about man?
Her money short, yeah
Man you better get on top of your business
What?
New Jersey style
What? Yeah
Way back I bust rap like cap when my mind reacts
She fine, drinking Chivas on the diamonds she get
Fucking bullshit I got no time for it
Whoever talking war meet me front line of it
The most dominant, bombing cliques, vicious, victorious
Late with my money, I don't wanna hear the story kid
9Th Feast the glorious out on your block too
Patting the pockets hold your heat
When we come through on some '89 shit
V-lock down, Porsche drop top
Shining the leather, hit the park and let the sounds knock
Don't we tell 'em the wrong man 'cause they scandalous, listen
I'm the mack, can't you tell by the limp? Baby I got you
You getting paper ain't near a person can knock you
Yo, I came in the door, I said it before
I never let them haters surround me no more
They'll drink up your liquor, scheme on burning you raw
Talk dirt on your name, spit game at your whore
I'm the mack, can't you tell by the limp? Always the score
Same shit I been on since around '94
But time passes and niggas is stuck
Who gives a fuck? Feast dolo blowing haze in the truck
Juice truck sunk low, tell them hoes to holler back
Shorty got a bubble, I got something for that
Niggas want trouble, I regroup on the double
I'm your team in a huddle, no retreat, no rebuttal
It's 9th Feast, shave the muscle off the TEC, let it bang hard
Bulletproof gorillas planting roses in your graveyard
I'm the mack, can't you tell by the limp? Baby I got you
You getting paper ain't near a person can knock you
Watch for the cops, they work on ways to stop you
And them haters is wishing that they could top you
I'm the mack, can't you tell by the limp? Baby I got you
You getting paper ain't near a person can knock you
Watch for the cops, they work on ways to stop you