BIG MACK - Tru 2 this lyrics

rate me

You betta keep your vest on your chest when I flex

Cause niggas be coming foul trying to put me to the test

I know what's next, you wanna see if I'm a G to get my buck on

Pistol grip to your dome while I gets my gauge on

Looking at me like you looking at a J cat

But stupid tricks ain't shit but hoodrats

Laying up in the cuts for a kick back

Looking for a nigga with some scrilla from the Fatt Sakk

So now we on 3rd hella perved

Swervin to the motherfucking curb off that herb

And niggas be looking but I don't be trippin up off that punk shit

Houses I be browsin, poppin bitch after bitch

Flip the script as I blaze up a spliff with my nigga Richie Rich

We hitting the town letting niggas know I shoots the gift

You see me, I be from the Sucka Free

And ain't a out of town G that can chuck with the

Three hundred pound nigga from the mack bay

I'm hitting switches, I'm blazing spliffs, I'm taking your bitches away

To the top with my glock, your nigga can't be stopped

So peep game while you waiting for my album to drop

[Chorus]

I'm so sick when it comes to this

1-8 to the 7 mic murdering shit

I'm so sick with this

Big Mack that nigga that's gonna rip the fucking stacks

I'm so sick when it comes to this

1-8 to the 7 mic murdering shit

I buck em buck em down with my gauge, I'm getting paid

Big Mack, Fatt Sakk nigga peep the flav

Rule motherfucking one, time to have some fun

I blaze another J, smashin up the motherfucking way foo'

I'm so sick with this, I'm so true to this

I grab the mic and pop the clip and release this gangsta shit

Yeah, I'm down with the Killahoe

Steel toed boots with my troops knocking down your door

Huh, so peep out this manuscript HP sucka free never trusting a bitch

About my grip, yeah, I gots to keep my scrilla on

My motherfucking money makes me put my chrome to your dome

So now it's on and we up in my nigga's Benz

J.C., Fly Nate, and my nigga Rich

Droppin bombs on this fuck for your trunk

So nigga blaze up the skunk and watch me tear shit up

I'm like that nigga that don't give a fuck

That nigga that'll snap your neck quick

Don't trip, cause I'm mackin your bitch and stackin my grip

Don't trip, cause I'm spitting shit and making hits

Tearing up the strip with this Big Mack shit

Yeah, just like the sound when my glock goes pop

Peep game while you waiting for my album to drop

[Chorus]

I buck and dodge, I creep but I never crawl

I start the funk cause I'm known as this town's dog

Now it's the B-I-G, the M the A to the C

You can never fuck around with this big Cuban beat, and uh

Sucka mothafuckas betta pucker up

These bitches on my team cause your nigga's checking green

Uh, perpetrator, punk player hater

You better grab your Tec before I regulate like Darth Vader

For the playas, not the playa haters

Ain't none of you got no game like me

Ain't none of you got no flava, save a muthafuckin hoe

And this is how we operate when we in the 'Sco

Rippin off of indo, car full of blunt smoke

Reaching for the window cause a nigga's about to choke

But I take another hit before I get to pass

Ain't trippin bout the paper but a nigga put in half

[Chorus x2]