Mr. F*ck Up

* (NOT Cash Money -- MC Ren's brother)

My niggaz call me Grinch and yes I'm known to be a fuck up

Loaded clip, folded sticks, my lifts and double cuffed up

Put my stick so nigga feel my pockets with the dollar

'Cause they rock keep the stock in a private prison parlor

Grinch you did it, your black ass really did it

Give Bone the microphone and let him kill it

Give Bone the microphone and watch me beat you like a cop

Lil' G from the hall so the maggot won't stop

And plus I'm packin' punches always keep a good grip

My homies call me Bone from the Whole Damn Click

I live like a mack and keep the bitches on my dick

You sorry sap sips still hangin' on my shit

Compton is the heart and that's where we all from

The jackin' goin' on in the hood and in the slum

And don't be caught slippin' while we dippin' the 4

'Cause Ren'll grab his nine and watch him smoke 'em from the door

And then we make a dash and put that ass in the air

True checkin' done by the true fuckin' player

I'm headed to the cut with straight chronic in my pock

Rainin' make 'em kill 'em 'cause I'm servin' 'em spot

And that's how it's done I keep it flowin' like a sailor

My beats are large my feats are star, some called me Chuck Taylor

Then I call the Juvy 'cause I know we gotta Coupe

Don't worry 'bout a damn we got the end, we gettin' loot

Then call me Mr. Dopeman when I'm chillin' in the spot

My niggaz call me Bishop when I'm rollin' with my glock

The crackers call me bandit when I'm runnin' from the cops

And the bitches call me daddy when I'm tearin' up the cock

Yo the title's Mr. Fuck up so I figure that I'm fucked

Got no luck, shit, gotta go and earn a quick buck

Boom boom, is the sound of my cannon

'Cause I'm a nigga with a motherfuckin' gun master plannin'

I'm a crazy ass nigga makin' motherfuckers fall

A nigga from the streets hangin' in the fuckin' hall

I place where we smoke bud and niggaz get bent

And when it comes to music put on MC Ren shit

Now everybody chillin' and the bitches gettin' freaky

Took a trick to the room now she gots ta lick me

Lickin' out my ass hole like a fuckin' groupie

I'm through now I cleans up and call my nigga Juvy

Headin' downstairs my niggaz hand me a 4-O

Smokin' the extension you know it's the indo

Now I'm feelin' high like I'm sittin' on a cloud

The dust that we kick I guess we live our lives foul

Beware of the nigga that they call J-Rock

The party's goin' through but I still got my glock

I'm watchin' for the bad apples in every bunch

And if it's necessary motherfucker we can thump

Or get a fuckin' pump, put a hole in your chest

Slugs goin' straight through a bullet proof vest

Matters gettin' worse if I have to drop the dogs

Beat ya in your face yellin' till ya hit the hall

So smalls, get your fuckin' 9 and your clip

And let these motherfuckers know what's up on the Whole Click