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Word up |
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Uhh |
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I've become accustomed to goin' through customs |
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Pound in my pocket hollerin', "****** them" |
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I'm livin' that life that you only talk about |
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I'm ******' them hoes that you only thought about |
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I spend that money but you won't spend about |
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As much that I made off my last single out |
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Whatchu think of that? ******z, y'all know |
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That I kill ******z slow when I live for this dough |
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Got labels sick, I know they hate that |
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I'm makin' they artists push them dates back |
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I don't need tattoos to prove I pack tools |
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Go 'head and act fool and become dog food |
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Memph Man, uh-huh, yeah that's me |
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Same ****** that don't give a "Basically" |
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And I'm still smokin', it be like that |
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Ya blunt went out, ****** relight that |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Bleek how? |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Geda how? |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Bleek how? |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Geda how? |
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Yeah, I'm finally put in the game, right where I should be |
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And the gat laid right where it should be |
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Violate, you be put where you should be |
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Have your family and friends screamin', "How could he?" |
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Walk the streets with a body on his back |
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Ride around in a V with the shottie in the back |
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And for y'all that swear, that I front for rep |
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Only thing that I front is hoes and coke and clips of tef |
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With a co-D, that's a, menace to the people |
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Yeah we sold D and made a livin' off of people |
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Ghetto, corrupted us, and we taught ourselves |
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How to add and scale plus bag and sell |
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And how to, aim and shoot and I got brain when the wrist locked |
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Wherever the dot spot leave the tape |
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You keep actin' like you can't die in a blaze |
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And I let sixteen of 'em dive in your wake |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Bleek how? |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Geda how? |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Bleek how? |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Geda how? |
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Picture me rollin' in that five hundred Benz |
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I got no love for you ******z it ain't no need to be friends |
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I give a ****** 'bout 'em, no need to talk 'bout 'em |
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He act 'bout it, I let the fo'-fo' pound 'em |
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The co-D's, ****** no statements |
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Just shots, empty shell casings |
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No prints, V's no tint |
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Phone, Sprint, Six, no chips ****** |
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R-O yeah M-A |
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Realist hood and clique ******, comprende? |
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You ****** ******z know I'm focused right? |
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You still catch M-E-M loc'n right? |
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In the black V, wit' the gat on my lap |
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Shovel in the trunk, go 'head ******, front |
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This M dot E-M-P-H-I-S Bleek |
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Coppin' out to a one to three, you ****** ****** |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Bleek how? |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Geda how? |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Bleek how? |
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I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. |
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B.K. style, see Geda how? |
