Mac Mall - They Ask For It lyrics

[Verse 1: Mac Mall] Chemical Ali, my posse like Nazis I call shots like Gotti, my designated hitters catch bodies Crestland mad man, cutthroat kamikaze Sicko, schizo, sneak Tommys in the party And when the funk pop off, squares already know who shot him Them boys slidin' back to the Triple C on possy Me see Sawyer Street like Big Daddy and Collie And quick stretch a fly b**h out like Pilates Cha**is think a Mac spittin' drag, then b**h try me I'll have you in Miami gettin' a couple grand nightly This some of that Thizz grill, battlefield, Country Club Mac spill Come against my side and mayne, fa sho, catch a raw deal For trill, cutt, pa** the bomb k** And I'mma steal on any off-ramp tryna wreck what we build n***a, this Mac da Mos, one toke overdose You s**as can't come close And if they do, caps get peeled, for real [Chorus 2X: Mac Mall] They on it, they want it, these n***as ask for it sh** hit like George Foreman, one dose and you're soarin' Cuddies buy rope by the pound, we never come down Rip to trip or whoop a clown, never come down [Verse 2: Mac Dre] If I ain't drunk now, I'm finna be I'm full of the Remy, ready to engage the enemy Push the extremity, hear me, and don't let up Use his b**h to set up, and then wet up n***a, shut up, you ain't got my mail yet Get hit with the Kel-Tec, with the shell-catch My b**h mail-fetch, sell s**, she rich I check ill traps and will slap the b**h So cold, my little n***as from the North Pole Put ya in a chokehold and shoot up your Ford Probe A fly force, we a mobile strike force Put 365 course in a tight Porsche When my source gives me the coordinates I sic ‘em, get ‘em, hit ‘em with the pair of ordnance You insubordinates get the cutthroat guillotine Ya-da-di-mean? n***a, this the k**a team They on it, they want it these n***as ask for it (Repeat 4X) [Outro] Dr. Evil: Talk to the hand ‘cause the face don't wanna hear it anymore President: What hand? Talk to your hand? Dr. Evil: You ain't all that and a bag of potato chips President: What are you talking about? Dr. Evil: Don't go there, girlfriend. Mmm-hmm President: Whose girlfriend? Dr. Evil: Don't mess with me. I'm one crazy mo-fo. I had to pop a cop ‘cause he wasn't giving me my props in Oaktown. No? I heard that somewhere