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Call It Ours - Legends lyrics
Now, you know the reason for the Black Mafia theory, hahaha
Yes, it has many meanings, but no matter how you define it
It still comes out black, see, it's just a hair trim
So, you can call it what you want
Now, I clown around, when I hang around, with the underground
But, when I'm with the Mafia we droppin' ya
And, if you're a hoe, then I'll be knockin' ya, baby why not
You shouldn't jock me 'cause, I'm popular
The group with the glock, I love to pop the gun
Coppers get shot, they shouldn't try to stop the Mafia
2 Pac'll pack a person, pump the trunk
I'm bumpin' G Funk, but you can call it what you want
How many times I gotta tell ya, don't ignore me?
Either be my hoe or hit the do', you're nothin' for me, see ya
That's why, I love to go on tour G
Scores of whores behind the door, a nigga's naughty
Now, I'm sippin' on a forty, so you can call it what you want
Just pass the blunt and kick it Money
Well, I am the danger, the danger, similar to a killer
I rhyme for rounds of conflicts chomp and stomp 'em
While y'all chillin' in Tokyo
Check it as I choke a slow poke rapper, capped his ass faster
Than a half of pound of crepes'll go on Mother's Day
First and fifteenth, another way of sayin' it
I got new clips so trip but it's okay to get your crew
'Cause ooh' I'll send your team to the showers
They true and do and rippin' and got the Wonder Twin powers
I devour much venom, lunch breaks I shit em, I just stink
Whaddya think, this is a threat? Just forget about it
Come back, you're done black, see Cutty was the stopper
But you'll call me the Indo when I chop ya with the shopper
Sting ya with the stinger, flex the trigger finger
I blow you to bits and I be gettin' a kick
Out of grabbin' the mic and flingin'
I smoke a Spliff but I'm not Jamaican, so won't you let a
Yankee Doodle Doo what he hasta, raise my hand
And cast a hellafied spell, you can't tell you better ask a
Weatherman, he'll sigh and reply
"You shoulda stayed in the house"
'Cause, Mon is gonna rain on their parades
Now, clear the smoke, and grab a fool by his throat
And don't let him go, til he holla, holla billygoat
Now Money, Money, Money B, once said to me
"187 why you wanna be a G?" Well, I like to clock big G's
And hang out all night and never worry bout a bitch
'Cause she can't tell me shit
Plus, Money, Money is a pimp thang, what?
'Cause, see, if you was in my shoes, you'd be doin' the same
So, don't ever ever fuck with, I'm a G-er playa
'Cause, when I'm bustin' on a punk, I could never be a customer
Now peep this, 'cause when I'm goin' deep, the only customers
Gettin' served in the house, is the pussy I freak
They wanna pop that ying yang
I tell em, "Sit down, shut up, bitch, and let me kick game" y'know
'Cause, hoes always be sayin' they got it goin' on but if they wanna
Get with a nigga like me, they gotta pay a fee
I am not the No Mack Nigga, from the planet called Silk
I'm from the planet Black Mafia Life, that freaks pimps
Yo, come take a sip of the psycho, mega
Pimpsome, hoesta, must be a playa
Now hold up, wait a second
Nah, I fucked you bitches on the last record, yo
It's like I'm high on a Ragamuffin Spliff
Me, the dope sound, what a man, the myth, come
Mon, they wanna see me fade shit, like I did last year
So I post on 'em, then I coast on 'em
No I never, never, never had a murder rap
And if you snitch you say
I did it you're bound to get your neck snapped
So there it is, and how it's gonna be
So I pass the joint, to my man K M G
Well, you can call it what you want, but if you don't
I'm still a nigga with a pimp strut, ooh, a Macadamia Nut
Ah, say what you want? I'm workin' for a cha oh
Well alright, you little silly ass hoe
Now, when you want to rhyme to boo and get tramped
Give a call to the clinic, ATL's the pimp camp
And see which playa, is up for the down stroke
'Cause you skeez in, 'cause you broke
So toast them hoes, like I said before
I fuck four bitches a day, and I'm lookin' for more
'Cause, cords of scores of hoes be leavin' my house
Like, bam, and I'm like, damn, now, my niggaz done labeled me
The dangerous neighborhood nastyman, 'cause they know I can
When you wake up in the morning, I only give ya five pushes
I'll be out by your garage, awaitin', behind the bushes
Drinkin' coffee, smoove waitin' to talk see
Like a true hoe, gigolo should be
See, I'm a giant and the rest of them are fakers
Especially, when it comes to the bitches and they moneymakers
A simp nigga hesitate to dish a tramp, but I don't
So ease back Mafioso on the corner, what you, want
Now, you know the reason for the Black Mafia theory, hahaha
Yes, it has many meanings, but no matter how you define it
Part of these releases
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- Track 25 on Labrador 100: A Complete History of Popular Music Disc 3
- 24 Daddy's Boy - Corduroy Utd.
Call It Ours - Legends Video
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