| Ha, straight from Vallejo
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| But now I’m back with young Khayree
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| And my cuddies in YBB
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| And I’m serving straight game, yeah, you know
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| So you can go ask that Chinese hoe
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| ‘Cause she, took a couple lines from the nigga
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| Young Mac Mall in a straight rhyme, Mac Who, bitch
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| The beat stopped, but we won’t stop
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| And hoes like you are straight on jock
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| It’s young Mac Dre in the place
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| Punk bitch, get out my face
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| If you ain’t got green, bounce from the scene
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| You hear what I mean?
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| Cuddie, it’s out from the play—coming like this
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| My lyrical content is deep like a good book
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| I serve flavor just like a good cook
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| Grab a mic, get ill at a party
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| Rap so good, I send chills through your body
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| Rhyme style tight like coochie
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| Raw like sushi, and funky like Bootsy
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| And top notch is what they rate Dre
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| ‘Cause I got more rhymes than food at Safeway
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| So make way, for the M-A-C
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| As I put Crestside on the M-A-P
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| I got more game than that fool Pat Sajak
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| I’m a G, a player from way back
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| Skills superior, far from inferior
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| Got the pimp shell with the gangster interior
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| And with the broads, I’m smooth and suave, son
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| And when it’s funk, I get the job done
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| So don’t underestimate the great Mac
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| ‘Cause I make raps and pimp to make snaps
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| I hate saps, can’t stand a smerk
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| Definition of smerk—sucker, mark, and a jerk
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| I perks, off Courvoisier
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| Slightly heated with the Grand Marnier
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| Never hesitate to put game in a tight rap
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| I’m serving muthafuckas…‘cause I’m like that
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| MAC WHO? |
| MAC WHO?
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| Check it out—MAC WHO?
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| Ay, break it down for me—MAC WHO?
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| MAC WHO? |
| MAC WHO? |
| MAC WHO?
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| (Spit that shit, cuddie)
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| Young nigga, me, I live the life on constantly
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| Them suckers figure that they can take me off the charts
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| And try to get wit’cha
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| But all them jealous gettin' mobbed off the picture
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| I’m smoking roper while that real shit hit ya
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| So where them Crestside creepers?
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| And if you serve me bammer, boy, you best’a call a preacher
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| ‘Cause I’mma come see ya wit' a vengeance
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| Nationwide poppin', Crestside pimp shit
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| Superfly, smoking quarters a day
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| But not off candy annie, this that Humboldt dank
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| With my Strictly SES crew and we all got half
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| So I’m lighting up the roper, hit the strip and I blast
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| Ain’t worried about a sucker fucking over my high
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| ‘Cause I’m rollin' with some killers in the game, go or die
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| Fit the track on our deck in remote control
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| And dawg, I really ain’t worried about no punk ass hoes
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| («Break the bitches filthy…») MAC WHO?
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| («Break the bitches filthy…») MAC YOU!
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| («Break the bitches filthy…») MAC WHO?
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| («Break, break the bitches filthy…») Bitch, I thought you knew
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| MAC YOU! |
| («…I'm always getting over»)
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| I used to slang yayo on the streets of the Three C’s
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| But now I slang game on cassettes and CDs
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| I rips and flips caps with stacks of raw rap
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| Attack some saps who steady flaps and jaw jacks
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| I’m all that, and I got Mac Mall’s back
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| Fumbled in '92 but now I got the ball back
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| And fully representing this Northern Cali, hoe
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| I’m from the Crest, northside of Valley Joe
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| From the O, down to San Jo, up to Sacto, up to Frisco
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| Everybody knows Mac Dre’s a factor
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| Taking this rap thang to the next chapter
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| I rap to, funky beats that rock ya
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| Made by Khayree, brother of the Rocker
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| I sock ya, with these blows of game
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| That’s potent than a joint of that doja, mayne
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| I know this thang and can explain it well
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| So what you need, boy, I got game for sale
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| MAC WHO? |
| (Hoes love it ‘cause I got much of it)
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| MAC YOU! |
| MAC WHO?
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| («Break the bitches filthy…») MAC YOU!
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| (Mac muthafuckin' Dre, bitch)
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| («Break the bitches filthy…»)
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| Young Mackin' ass Mall
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| My name is young Mac Mall, mayne, and this is My Opinion
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| You need to get with me and young MD because we pimpin'
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| BIATCH!
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| I’m a monster—what you say, Dre? |
| I’m a beast
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| (Muthafuckin' beast
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| Them hoes don’t know this—check this out, Mall
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| Check this out…)
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| She wants to get married but I ain’t and I cain’t
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| ‘Cause I’m sprung on my muthafuckin' dank and some drank
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| I got a fat bank, and still break hoes
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| And if your bitch gets to jockin', I will break yours
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| The Mac named Dre from the C-R-E-S-T
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| Ask about a nigga and they all will say «Yes, he’s the shizit»
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| I gizet, much pussy on my dizick
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| Never would I lizick or pay like a trizick
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| I’m like that, potna, I thought you heard
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| Fuckin' with your brain like some Thunderbird
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| I’m doper than a joint of that potent dank
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| And funky like the county jail holding tank
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| Romper Room crew for life
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| Down with Spice and my homeboy Shiest
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| My niggas from the bammer… (Like that…) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mac Who , by - Mac Dre. Song from the album The Best of Mac Dre Volume 4, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп