Mac Mall - Crestside 2 Fillmoe lyrics

*(Mac Mall)* Uh, we in the Village! We in the Village n***a! *(JT)* Figgaro-Messy Marv production *(Mac Mall)* It's Mac Mall, Baby Capone in the Crestside of the Valley-Jo, hooked up wit My dogs from the Filthy-Mo! *(San Quinn)* An if you don't know about it, then ask yo hoe about it Cuz it's goin down n***a! One time Two times Verse 1 *(JT Tha Bigga Figga)* I slap some twinkies on my two-door Camaro Mucho dinero Traded a fuel injected carborator for a hottie 4-barrel Ship kits fo' Cam Break down the grams on the dash Put the 4, 15's wit the Floor Masters hangin out the a** An we love to smash Back to back in Vett's and Jags From the west coast California where them ol skools act bad Wit the rest of the fam strikin in hot Vogues an sh** Quick to scratch up a playas pocket an keep on poundin this sh** Verse 2 *(Mac Mall)* Appear quiet, bust in my grill Young titan wit the toys concealed Big nuts an nerves of steel Got money to make I'm bout to serve Francis Drake Pullin hundreds an toss the keys to LA Boss ballin in Green Bay As the hood take brothas Under We be countin crispy federal notes Cuz I ain't tryin to sell dope In 2-triple-0 White folks knock my hustle Like I'm the mayor of the City Of Dope Me an my thugs hit the lobbies Looking like we'll smuther everybody Kamakazi bout this money don't try me My cuddie My cromies In this, we the titans to meet Juss a day in the life of the elite So don't hate me, hate the game You hate it cuz you workin wit small change s**a who's to blame? Matter fact don't answer that You'll probably say some square sh** an Mackin' Ass gon' have to put you on Your back You can't touch me You way to p**y You besta come wit mo than some choppas to try an rush me It's Mac Mall, Baby Capone I hooked Vallejo wit the 'Mo an now we paper chasin outta control! (Whoo! Whoo!) Chorus *(JT Tha Bigga Figga)* By now you know the name (know the name) Done brought ya that "Game Recognize Game" ain't a thang changed From the Crest 2 Fillmoe (Fillmoe) We Mobb slow In 3-C down b**h you know the rules hoe Verse 3 *(San Quinn)* By know them n***as know Don't lose focus tryin to scope us Watch us like the rollas Get in closer wanna blow us I'm the playa that don't play no games Keepin s**as out my range You crooked to the game Feel the fire as I flame Every verse aimed at yo brain The pencils in yo house ain't You need to watch yo spouse mayne She all in my mouth mayne Starring at my gold She creep like a mouse mayne Juss thought I'd let you know The falsified on dime Real G's k** 'em all If you Mac'in keep it crackin like my n***a Jamal If I fall I bounce back like elastic On ba*tards Through the "Total Recall" On phony stars as we mash in For hoes, it's hard to get at ya We down cash advancements so fresh you'll figure fashion Crashin the cars An dismatling marks Fake n***as wit no heart they get they a** ripped apart We sharper than a needle, an I bust it wit my people Get leathal if I hit ya wit this sleeper Ain't too hard to reach ya Like a teacher seat ya in a corner like a dunce Cuz ya known as a clone and performer of them stunts And I'm tired of givin warnings to punks Thinkin cuz we rappin, we about to front You be the first to see a hearst chump I know you don't want no funk I see you n***as shakin All up, up in this game But you s**as fakin *(San Quinn talking)* Yeah. I'm doing this for my homie Kareem It's ya n***a San Quinn, JT an Mac Ass Mall (Fa sho) Fa all ya'll Bouncin in yo trunk it's this Yay Area bump Yeah you know what I'm talking about For all you n***as and you b**hes Feel the dope to this realness For the 9-8 to the 9-9 to the year 2000 *(JT talking)* What, what? We finna put it down. We put it down 9-8, 9-9 Uh 9-8, 9-9 The year 2 2-triple-0 A Figgaro-Messy Marv production Late night in the Laboratory Whippin it Puttin it down as usual Campaingin an maintainin Oh, it's goin down Uh, it's goin down Uh, an we out An we out