Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Matic, artist - Giggs. Date of issue: 20.06.2010
Song language: English
Matic |
| Matic, Matic, Matic, Matic |
| M-M-M-M |
| Go get my gloves |
| Niggas play gangster like Pesky does |
| I get wild on him if he does |
| Two Macs, that’s 50 slugs |
| Look what you’ve gone and done |
| I empty the whole clip, I don’t bun and run |
| The trey-pound, run and spun |
| The pumpy that’s Gunna’s gun |
| It’s the return of the South again |
| Pick it up, reload, and I’m out for them |
| Running up your mouth got me out again |
| On the ride with a stick, Ralph Lauren |
| What you know 'bout that banging sound |
| Got it locked from Sumner to Spanish Town |
| And niggas tryna pan it down |
| My big AK’ll bring a planet down |
| It’s that up middle finger shit |
| Got a whole lotta power at my fingertip |
| So don’t tempt me and let my finger slip |
| And you can’t see who through the window tint |
| Shit’s hot, and I’ve been low since |
| Get it in though, and I get the bimbos in |
| Got a full house, nothing like a bingo win |
| So don’t talk about matics 'cause we ring those things |
| Matic, Matic, Matic, Matic |
| M-M-M-M |
| Straight greazy tip, yeah my clique’s certainly 'bout it |
| When I grip it up, slugs start bursting out it |
| When I do the ting you would not have heard about it |
| 'Cause I tell my niggas «don't say a word about it» |
| 'Cause the street’s speaking, in police meetings |
| But snitches get pitching, see I keep seizing |
| You’ll be deep sleeping, when the 'retta buss |
| See the prey, creep on niggas like a predator |
| And if I see your clique then it’s beef |
| I’ll grip up and strangle the clip out the beak like |
| If you slip with your chick in the street |
| I’ll let a young G grip the bitch by her weave |
| If I tore gats, I’ll knock the dust outta your cap |
| You’ll be on the floor with your jaw cracked |
| If I ain’t got my strap get your jaw smacked |
| And I’ll let my knife plant in on your back |
| The truth is, I was dead broke |
| So low, couldn’t buy a chicken leg and a coke |
| But now I get dough from the Z’s and the O’s |
| Act up and I’ll shove the spesh down your throat |
| Think you’re greaze 'cause you’re running 'round in a bunch? |
| I’m a G, I’ll ride on your block on my ones |
| Pissed, bare my G’s got locked by them cunts |
| Free all my niggas locked down in the slum |
| Matic, Matic, Matic, Matic |
| M-M-M-M |
| You ain’t buying guns little prick, you’re a liar |
| I’ve got firearms like my arms are on fire |
| If I’ve got the fire on me, I stop, drop and roll |
| I mean I stop, drop him with the shot and blow |
| I grab the strap on some greazy shit |
| I’ll squeeze and hit the prick when I’m squeezing it |
| And I stay close to where my heater is |
| Niggas know |
| We’re still the greaziest |
| The reason is we don’t reason with |
| Little pussyholes, I put it close and squeeze the fifth |
| So fuck the law, if I touch the 4 |
| You can die before you touch the floor |
| Got a new strap, better have your vest about |
| I might bun you in just to test it out |
| So rest your mouth boy, or rest in peace |
| I’ll have you laid out if I press release |
| Matic, Matic, Matic, Matic |
| M-M-M-M |