Lyrics Mac Dre Day - Mac Dre

Mac Dre Day

I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
Call me Morris Dre, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, knockin' pitches out the park
Dre in the Bay kickin' bitches out the 'Lark
I shit while niggas fart, I’m super flossy
Incoming on my Sprint, outgoing on my faulty
Get off me, boy, Dre be the most buttered
Rims spin when I peel to the gutter
I’ll rob your mother, put one in your brother
No witnesses, and not one word muttered
Mac Dre gon' be dipped when you see him
And full of that H-double E-M
I’m a boss, stay coonin'
Scandal, boy, tell 'em what we doin'
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me (Sick Wid It)
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I had to hop in my time machine and go back
And do a song with Dre and make a new age slap
You punks don’t want no static
I’m a soo city hog, a Sick Wid It savage
Neffy Neffy, pop like ecstasy
If she ain’t gettin' texts from me, the ho ain’t ever next to me
I grow trees and my grow trees hoodie slangin' P
I’m the newest living legend out the fuckin' V
Hyphy, in Girbauds and Nikes
My nigga S Geezy keep me Bathing fat steezy
And a bitch’ll never leave me 'cause I’m so damn peezy
Slappin' on a blap from my nigga Sean Teezy (Sean T)
Neffy Belafonte, he’s so raw
Send a direct message to a bitch nigga jaw (Bitch ass nigga)
The race over, boy, you slow niggas lost (Man, you lost)
Young Pharaoh, young king, young god
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, I gets it nightly
Three C savage, the shit’s inside me
Alright, see, I’ma say it politely
You a boring ass bitch and you don’t excite me
Bite me, but that’s not likely
I’ll backhand yo' ass with this Bentley Brightling
Ayy (Ayy) — who’s your friend?
Um, you can come but lose your friend
My bitch with me with her Gucci ice box
$ 650 on these Gucci hi-tops
Fuck with me, I’ll leave you in ice knots
I still ride with Kilo and his one-eyed cyclops
J. Bledsoe, my Nikes retro
No more iPhone, it’s back to Metro
One more, I’m gone, it’s back to the hood
Just roll me some cookies up, and make it a Backwood
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
Look, in the East, I’m a beast, yeah, I’m the quarterback
Whatever cost the most, I’ma order that (Yep)
Across the border strapped, I know them eses with the coke white
Got niggas out in Detroit with sub for that low price
The steak ain’t right without the A1
And I can’t leave out my house without a gun
Look, Gucci on my tennis shoes, I’m winnin', I ain’t finna lose
That rapper gone bad, can’t be slippin', gotta stick and move
I’m hyphy, slap the shit up out your wifey
Like twenty in my pocket but I still rock a white tee
Four niggas in the Benz with the dreadlock hair
I’m a California Bear, spittin' game all in your ear
Bitch, I’m icy, I swear this lean got me screwed up
Bounced out on the track and every ho I seen choosed up
Look, I’m a rude boy 'til I die
Bitch try to tell me what to do, I’m like, «That's not my job»
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m saucy and dippy, Dorito chippy
I’m from Ice City so you know I’m drippy
My niggas grow trees, they don’t fuck with trippy
Beat a bitch like Kizzy, fuck more hoes than Drizzy
Who is he?
What she say when I slide up
Pulled off on sixes, throwin' my side up
I fucked with the Mac, the D-R-E (The D-R-E)
And me and The Jack was tight as PRPs
Call Mr. Chow’s, see, he our beast
Real ass niggas, bitch, we are these
You a rat tryna see our cheese
Subzero on a punk rock, freon freeze
I’m cold as ice, I’m a polar bear (Polar bear)
Drive through the ice, you know I’m there
North Pole is my home, I’m Santa Claus
'Bout to splash on a bitch like a cannon ball
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy in my Gucci Nikes
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
I’m hyphy, ain’t nobody bad like me
D-boy, B-boy in my Gucci Nikes
What’s up, man?
What’s up?
This Dre
What’s happenin' wit' you?
Where you at?
I’m on the 205…