Mike D

Mike D - Swang Down lyrics

rate me

(feat. Fat Pat, Mr. 3-2)

[talking]

Yo, you done tuned into radio Boss Hogg Corleone

Yeah that's right, Miggity Mike D and I'm back

Yeah 60 days out the Penn, putting it on you niggaz shoulders

Like it go you know I'm saying, My Gift to the World

My Gift to the World, from the Don Corleone is to bless you

With all the greatest hits I done been on, you know I'm saying

Skeet taste you, for that Hoggin Da Game come out

Cause I'm fin to put it in your face, Corleone Family Entertainment

Baby, we fin to take over this thang for the 2 triple 0-4 you smell me

[Hook x2]

Swing down, sweet chariots let me ride

Coming down slow, on the damn Southside

Swanging on 4's, slamming on do's

Gripping your hoe, that's the way it goes

[Fat Pat]

It's the big sugar daddy, bailing none other

Coming down with blunt, in the red and peanut butter

Naw I didn't stutter, popping trunks surround

Coming down slow, watch a playa what clown

On the Boulevard, yeah my swangas we'll mob

I'm coming down the Boulevard, swanging on them hard

Me and C.B., got the T.V. on

Got my glock in my lap, riding till dawn

Man it's all goody, hit the parking lot

Pop trunk red neon, it don't stop

Watching hoes bop, cause we on that glass

C.B. crawling, yeah I got on my mask

With my Sacci looks, ready to let my pistol smoke

Cause up in the C, and I'm gone off that dope

Leaning on the drank, so what you think

I got my hand on my glock, plus I got my shank

[Hook x2]

[Mike D]

I swang on dots, floss on chops

Hit the scene beat it up, like a boiling crock pot

Dipping so low, in the Jag cockpit

Got my paws frostbit, with six screens lit

Feeling like the shit, mobbing on twin Z's

Pat in front of the Lac, I'm in the J-A-G

Sipping a skeet taste, with a cannon on my waste

Iceberg to the drawas, putting it all in your face

Shocking and body rocking, swanging side to side

Crawling wide body, with Palomino inside

Tell I'm a 84 glider, on the block glider

Catch me and 3 in the Pathfinder, with diamonds that'll blind you

Smoking on sticky, sipping lean in my machine

Through the parking lot crawling, hogging dogging the scene

With my mug on mean, working sixteen

Swanging on you boys, fulfilling ghetto dreams

[Hook x2]

[Mr. 3-2]

Lumilean to Eddies, money over bop hoes

My Diablo, and see six zeros

Niggaz sturn like 84's, and switch like kids

Gotta move around, cause they'll put it in your ears

Still sipping but no beer, check up in my styrofoam

In H-Town Texas, my home sweet home

The Governor and Corleone, P-A-T resurrected

Vote for Mr. 3-2, to be reelected

Me Mafia connected, with the streets on lock

Entertaining my peoples, on the fifty foot yacht

I move a big body out to, bending corners turning heads

From the Boulevard MLK, to the blocks of Homestead

We flossing and flipping turning, tipping so low

Beating the trunk, and dropping the top real slow

Letting the world feel it, realest from the Gulf Coast

We swang down up on the block, body rock with my folks

[Hook x2]

[scratching]

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