play [Talking:] This is my will... This is my will... Telling ya'll how I feel... My nigga I just keep it real Free My nigga Dev, my nigga Kenny Boy, D
being buried -- I'm losing my homies in a hurry They're relocating to the cemetary Got me worried, stressin, my vision's blurried The question is will
pass the Mac." I'm bustin' on these motha fuckas ballin' Listen you can hear my mini 14 callin'. From out the window of my drop top I got my glock cocked
bodies kitted Waves in my head, lookin like tsunamis hit it niggas scheme, the infrared beam's on the mac I put green on yo head like an Oakland A's hat My
singin' a song "Why'd they have to send my baby home?" F**kin' with some niggas, that paper long Been a G in the game now my son on the throne I am the
t be saved. I'm buckin', my nigga reinforcements comin' fast. Gave Rip the MAC-10, so we let them gun-gun blast on they ass. We rippin' chests' through vests, MAC
do things My thing - hot like blue flame Flame- the fireman put it out She hot- the fireman put her out All she gotta do is call up emergency And I will be on my
in dat Range truck Timmy got me fuckin? blinged up Last year I was broke now my wings up I put dat work in Nigga you not my bredren 44 Mac when I?m
in our city -OK, we've got a call on the request line and who am I speaking to? -My name's Will Junior. -And what do you do Will Junior? -Well, I unclog
' a song "Why'd they have to send my baby home?" Fuckin' with some nigga, that paper long Been a g in the game now my son on the throne [Lil Wayne] I
kiss my black ass [Verse 2 - 50 Cent] Nah, Em, tell 'em to kiss my black ass, the clean parts, the shitty parts, My bullet wounds, my beauty marks,
way still tellin ucks-lay, icks-bay my ick-day excuses my ick-pay ademlay uck-fay ick pay. (50 cent) Chorus 1 this rap game this rap game i aint selling my
buzz it (hahaha) [K-Mac] If I was fucking you, shit, it'd be like drama (yeah) And you might get tripped on by my baby mama (hey mac) So do what I tell
-off double barrel and a pistol grip Pump on my lap at all times I fill my gauge shells with nickels and dimes Thompson Center spittin .45 slugs Black Mac
arraignment, my nigga is the plantiff Yeah, I know what you thinkin - fucked up ain't it? I shoulda known better, and I planned to but dog they be takin me out of my
Feelin my highs and my lows In my soul, and my goals Just to stop smoking and stop drinkin But I been thinkin I got my reasons Just to get (by), just
krossed out We commence to make you Jump! Jump! The Mac Dad will make you Jump! Jump! The Daddy Mac will make you Jump! Jump! Jedward will make you Jump
joints like Keep Ya Head Up and Dear Mama Pun did it his way just like Carlito Big L murdered it on Stretch and Bobbito my man B put me on to Havoc and P Infamous will
