Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gon' Madd, artist - M-Child
Date of issue: 08.05.2000
Song language: English
Gon' Madd |
Associating with bullshit, got me Gon' Madd |
Associating with stupid hoes, got me Gon' Madd |
You fuck with your boy, somebody throw me some caps |
Somebody like anything before I kick somebody’s ass |
I need green, like Don King, need a haircut |
So I got with the 'Kaze 'cause they be hooking shit up |
We hellified music, I got the vocals to do it |
Since a nigga got capped, a nigga kinda got used to it |
Up there on the mic, got you hyped; |
rocking your head |
Making so much noise, a nigga wake up the dead |
Keep an eye on you niggas that want a loaf of my bread |
Pop on the infrared, pop it back and fill you with lead |
Nigga, you can test my nuts, 'cause they thought I was fake |
Now they (mad?) 'cause if they got some Go-Go-Gadget roller skates |
But me, you can’t escape, 'cause now I’m in your radio |
Better take me out, press pause, or fast-forward, hoe |
I’ve Gon' Madd, Madd enough to buy you some plast' |
Call the school; |
bomb threat, got my niggas outta class |
I want it all, so I hussle try not to fall |
You try to take it or make it, your whole world pause |
And to you niggas in the rap game, shit we gon' start |
Fuck around and how you hoes doin' shows as we got |
I feel ridiculous; |
clocked my gift from St. Nicholas |
Hard-core lyricist, rough is how I’m bringin' it |
Kamikaze thuggin' it, niggas they be jockin' it |
Fall up in the club, groupie hoes, they be lovin' it |
Heat on my hip incase a nigga get cold |
I’ma leave the hoe froze, plucked out with bullet hoes |
Money-maker, mark my word, M-Child, the top dog; |
Test nuts if a nigga jump like a fucking frog |
You better make way, give me room before I stray |
Bombs tied around my chest, blow this bitch to outer space |
I ain’t playing with you, and I ain’t fucking with your needle |
Them Mound niggas crazy, we chiefin' the reefer |
My niggas cappin' the geef, big bush, knockin' out teeth |
Eliminate beef, I think they gone and they deep |
Now don’t let me get deep, and rap until you fall asleep |
Smoke on the Optimo and Big Game, like a crooked priest |
If a nigga got beef, yo, we can take it to the streets |
Put a bomb in your pager and watch it blow into chow beef |
I creep with a hundred motherfuckers out late |
Smokin' dope, sippin' syrup, not the kind you eat with pancakes |
Taking over shit, do whatever for the cheese |
I need a bladder in the water a bitch need to breathe |
Zero tolerance, step out a lyin' ass whoopin' |
You gonna be in hot water like noodles when they be cooking |
Overlookin' my style, sick, making niggas vomit |
My clan comin' through and we clean up they Comet |
Now you can look, but don’t touch, why you on it, I know you want it |
That M-Child nigga, you won’t him dead, don’t he? |
If you just clear my weave, it’s gon' be something bad |
You fucking with the wrong one, my nigga, I’m Gon' Madd |