[M-Child] [Chorus x2]
Associating with bullsh**, got me Gon' Madd.
Associating with stupid hoes, got me Gon' Madd.
You f** with your boy, somebody throw me some caps,
Somebody like anything before I kick somebody's a**.
[M-Child]
I need green, like Don King, need a haircut,
So I got with the 'Kaze 'cause they be hooking sh** up.
We hellified music, I got the vocals to do it,
Since a n***a got capped, a n***a kinda got used to it.
Up there on the mic, got you hyped; rocking your head.
Making so much noise, a n***a wake up the dead.
Keep an eye on you n***as that want a loaf of my bread,
Pop on the infrared, pop it back and fill you with lead.
n***a, you can test my nuts, 'cause they thought I was fake,
Now they (mad?) 'cause if they got some Go-Go-Gadget roller skates.
But me, you can't escape, 'cause now I'm in your radio,
Better take me out, press pause, or fast-forward, hoe.
I've Gon' Madd, Madd enough to buy you some plast',
Call the school; bomb threat, got my n***as outta cla**.
I want it all, so I hussle try not to fall,
You try to take it or make it, your whole world pause.
[Chorus x2]
[M-Child]
And to you n***as in the rap game, sh** we gon' start,
f** around and how you hoes doin' shows as we got,
I feel ridiculous; clocked my gift from St. Nicholas,
Hard-core lyricist, rough is how I'm bringin' it.
Kamikaze thuggin' it, n***as they be jockin' it,
Fall up in the club, groupie hoes, they be lovin' it.
Heat on my hip incase a n***a get cold,
I'ma leave the hoe froze, plucked out with bullet hoes.
Money-maker, mark my word, M-Child, the top dog;
Test nuts if a n***a jump like a f**ing frog.
You better make way, give me room before I stray,
Bombs tied around my chest, blow this b**h to outer space.
I ain't playing with you, and I ain't f**ing with your needle.
Them Mound n***as crazy, we chiefin' the reefer.
My n***as cappin' the geef, big bush, knockin' out teeth,
Eliminate beef, I think they gone and they deep.
[Chorus x2]
[M-Child]
Now don't let me get deep, and rap until you fall asleep,
Smoke on the Optimo and Big Game, like a crooked priest.
If a n***a got beef, yo, we can take it to the streets,
Put a bomb in your pager and watch it blow into chow beef.
I creep with a hundred motherf**ers out late,
Smokin' dope, sippin' syrup, not the kind you eat with pancakes.
Taking over sh**, do whatever for the cheese,
I need a bladder in the water a b**h need to breathe.
Zero tolerance, step out a lyin' a** whoopin',
You gonna be in hot water like noodles when they be cooking.
Overlookin' my style, sick, making n***as vomit,
My clan comin' through and we clean up they Comet.
Now you can look, but don't touch, why you on it, I know you want it,
That M-Child n***a, you won't him dead, don't he?
If you just clear my weave, it's gon' be something bad,
You f**ing with the wrong one, my n***a, I'm Gon' Madd.
[Chorus x2]