Lyrics M.O.B - Messy Marv, 151, Killa Tay

M.O.B

150 weezy what is it
Killa Tizzy what is it
Yeah, yo
Yo I done told y’all niggas before don’t try me
She know I’m surrounded with K’s and Mac nineties
Who really wanna find me?, come get 'em a piece
I be more than glad to show 'em all he gettin is grieve
With no relief, nigga fuck that beef shit
He better reach quick, I’m on the blind side of some sneak shit
Sedan on the deep dish, heavily tinted
Duggle bag in the trunk, heavy artillery in it
No longer lieutenant, I’m general now
I send lil niggas to combat like I’m Colin Powell
Or Donald Rumsfel, hundred round drumsfel with hollow
Squeeze off the clip make you blow like Chicago
I’m on the throttle, movin wrecklessly
Dick in the models, throw down while her neck is be
Don’t pless with me, I’ma say it again
For the coroner have to notify your momma and them nigga
I, aim, heat, rain, sleet, snow, sunshine
Livin the mafia life, duckin from one-time
(Livin the mafia life, duckin from one-time
Livin the mafia life, duckin from one-time)
I’m a soldier niga, four-five in my pocket
I put that motherfucker in ya face, nigga cock it
Second generation, do it fo' the niggas befo' me
I’m bangin this block, we ridin for the dead homies
I’m a gangsta lil daddy, I don’t love no rap
I just love the way she let me fuck her ass from the back
Nigga I’m a known shooter, I pepper your face
One shot, one kill, I walk with a case
I’m a young black gangsta, with the mind of Matula
King of the underground, your boy black ruler
Have ya feelin like you comin from the Heron spot
These hot shells 'll start givin you them Heron knocks
And it ain’t no squashin the drama, it’s on for life
And them killas ridin with me, whether I’m wrong or right
And ain’t one nigga comin, man, we all gon creep
Ain’t one nigga leavin, y’all all gon sleep nigga
My mindstate sicker than most, It’s hardball
We coast to coast gettin lit with my folks, fuck y’all
Tryin to hate on my team, ain’t no way you could stop it
I stay surrounded by bosses no lossos it’s all profit
I, eat good, creep through your hood and knock hoes
It’s magic when I step in the booth, I got flows
I murder type beats like the mancy plan
You might, catch me at the club showin love to my fans
But understand this, I’m scandalous when it come to my chips
I rip tracks like receipts, I, never came weak
I, aim, heat, rain, sleet, snow, sunshine
Livin the mafia live, duckin from one-time
Crime pays every seven to nine days
I put, minds in a maze, recline it with rage
Blind filthy, shinin jewelry in ya face for fun
My bomb lyrics detonate and educate your sons
I’ma show you how the west was won
California to Seattle, we the ones ain’t no protection from
Second to none, record label makin it crack
Breakin in racks, full press blatin the tactics