| My bitch feeling flighty
|
| I get up in her psyche
|
| Squeeze my tightly
|
| And pull another
|
| Switch a bitch like academic
|
| And enjoy Nikes
|
| two women is dykey
|
| But they like me
|
| So we gettin' hyphy
|
| Sistas doin' sistas
|
| Backwoods, no Swishers
|
| Aliens visitor
|
| Mackin' to my niggas
|
| But you can call me Mister
|
| Mac to the Future
|
| Process to pursue a game
|
| From the sewer
|
| For the Treal TV viewers
|
| Easy maneuver
|
| You just trying to fuck
|
| I’m trying to touch
|
| Big bucks, no whammys
|
| I’m the most like Miami
|
| can’t understand me
|
| candy
|
| And I don’t even like sweets
|
| But nigga, my game so deep
|
| Bitch you owe me 'cuz you know me
|
| I ain’t tryin' to be ya homey
|
| Thizz Pimpin' ain’t phony
|
| That’s why the bitches
|
| See I’m fire like Backwoods stogies
|
| Lou-Thizz Farrakhan
|
| Nation of Thizzlandam
|
| Tommy gun weigh about 10 tons
|
| I’m tryin' to burn down Babylon
|
| Mackin' Mallennium
|
| Killer Crestside slum alum
|
| Where I’m from we troublesome
|
| You get hung by a young dumb dumb
|
| Ya fuckin' bum, we stay on one
|
| We come down when kingdom come
|
| Chemical Ali, Qaddafi’s son
|
| Nuclear bomb got my body on numb
|
| Backwoods beating my lungs like drum
|
| And rum
|
| 151 I swung, no chaser
|
| Me no run
|
| Groove spun
|
| But we ain’t done |