Lyrics M.G. - Rich The Factor, Rush, Mac Dre

M.G.

Once I turn millionaire gangsta
With 30 or 40 mill I’ll be on?
or?
flapping my tail
Through the smallest cities Des Moines to Mississippi
All around through Dallas, 5 million dollar palace
With a maid like Alice cooking and tossing salad
Dodging the feds and the marshals in a?
porsche to Cali'
Frisco to the Valley got play me and rush pop the 99 tre and start aqua dre
Rapper gone bad plus the sky pad
19 inch rims I ain’t mad
Counting cash no money counters
We pack straps so we pay the club faster
We smoke Amsterdam every state that we hit
Fifty thousand twice a week
Full heated cause I’m in love with the streets
I know how snakes can be that jealously make niggas wanna kill cause they ain’t
winning' like me
I’m from the streets of San Fransisco, born and raised
I grew up in this gat way back in the days
I was raised by ghetto billionaires but I can’t say names
Kansas city be the place where I’m shipping things
I got the coke for dirt cheap down in the back where I stay
And all you baller blocking niggas stay the fuck out the way
I’m getting cash money, yeah, that dirty fast money, that mansion and yacht
And that S class money
We organized crime bosses setting up shop
Taking over cities and building million dollar spots
Ya bitches is fascinated with my foreign lifestyle
I’m floss ballin' at the bank yes «iced out»
Well known for sending a bitch to the hoe track
Cause its gangster pimpin' on mine
I’m a feel low mac In a big body sky blue supersport impala
Check my stats, I’m a major league baller
Knocking patches out you?
with my nigga Rich The Factor
And a rapper gone bat and young rush strapped up
And y’all can’t fuck with this Millionaire Gangsta
I said y’all can’t fuck with this Millionaire Gangsta
I never show no soft like a bar of chalk
Blowing doses with my coalition
Put it down since detention
Binge or brink not associating with counterfeits
25 a kick put me in the chronic shift
My mouthpiece rips like a weapon
The?
wanna metal so I’m organized
All my career circumsized rolling packs of 5s
Huddled up you lacking on your grin, while niggas cuddled up
Me and my niggas bubbled up bouncing raps and?
now
20 inches on a Saleen fast crosses hundred pound triple beam
Hustle dream packing M16's with the?
attached
Took me a while to scratch the surface
Now I’m on purpose
Could be in service in church if you wanna purchase
Burn the competition with a proposition
And I always smoke on the barr fucking spinach
I’m tryna be a Millionaire Gangster but still bend corners in a Chevrolet
Do that gangster shit everyday you better check my resume
I come from a turf where rollers get whipped
Yola gets cooked
And if you floss nigga yo shit a sho get took
Me and my nigga S to the KY just hooked up with Rich and Rush
And we slicker than K-Y, Jelly
San quentin and is back up to telly
We really gonna go silly if the situation gets smelly
Then Makaveli they jelly they can’t fuck with no made men
They concentrated on hatin', hating they pockets is thin
Its no win for them suckers in
I’m with 3 savage and motherfucker I stay paid
I’m E’d up, roll the weed up
My nigga Don Juan them bomb tracks to make a motherfucker heat up
Turn the beat up nigga you feeling it ain’t ya
Just some real niggas tryna be some millionaire gangstas
Some millionaire gangstas
Some millionaire gangstas