BIG POKEY - M.O.B. lyrics

rate me

[talking]

Uh, ha, straight up, Sensei ha

2000 and 2 ha, ha

It go down, S.U.C. for real

Mobstyle for life, uh nigga

[Chorus x2]

And it's M.O.B., money

Over bullshit, you know me

Keep it low key, what a nigga told me

A nigga don't know, what a nigga don't see

[Big Pokey]

In this rap game I come, from the back of the pack

Now they respect my work, like I'm packing a mack

Everytime I sound check, I'm cracking the deck

On track split wigs, like a x in the hat

You know how I act in the Lac, I'm a hog

T.V.'s back in the back, got to fall

Texas boys crawl, like a nigga with his legs cut

K bullets hit niggas, and they edge up

Pay attention, focus nigga

Third, Fourth and Fifth Ward rogus nigga

4-4, Southwest vaulters nigga

Better have that on your mind, when you approach us nigga

A bitch'll jump fly, when they dose your hitter

You G about it, be about it, you supposed to get her

I get a broad pimp of grain, I need to be in the Pimp of Fame

They think it's hard, but it's simple man

[Chorus x2]

[Big Pokey]

I'm a gangsta, and I'm out of control

Drink wrecking ice cold, but my vaults on swoll

Pay the toll when you pass, it's the bill collector

Cocaine disector, come with Hannibal Lector

Tell the visual projector, when I'm watching a flick

I reckon need to had your chick, cause I got paper to get

Hundred miles per hour, slowing down my viders

Stampede the stateline, flood the booth with powder

I'm balling nigga, three hundred-sixty degrees

In the streets shedding cheese, you better recognize g's

Hollow T-I-P's, choppers and barettas

Fucking with my cheddar, I wet up niggas sweaters

Young in the game, crunching on niggas like ab work

And I'ma chase my paper stacks, till my calves hurt

Feel that, take it from a real cat

Or be a fool run up, and get your wig peeled back

[Chorus x2]

[Big Pokey]

Pay attention cause you listening, to one of the rawest

Cold as a meat locker, which as being I'm flawless

Attitude hoggest, mentality doggest

I pimp my bone, once from August to August

I'm an animal, in the booth I'm a cannibal

With a appetite like Hannibal, bitch I'm flammable

I'm bout to lock it up, beneath the key

S-E-N-S-E-I, that's me

Get ready for three minutes, of constant head rushing

Crushing mice, it's a verbal head busting

I'm a mic ripper, plus a motherfucking bike flipper

When I'm on the damn mic nigga

I'm the real deal, like Evander

Something boys really can't handle, pull my scandal

Uh, uncut cocaine

Putting pressure on your brain, man

[Chorus x4]