Sylvan LaCue - Man Up lyrics

[Mr. 3-2] It's a brand new day, brand new year Don't be listening to that bullsh**, n***as put in your ear I do this I do that, ho I get big stacks Break fools on tracks, and yes I do sell stracks We mashing that, all of love with no money I got too much hustle and grind, for you dummies Skinny and Presidential, hooked me up with Street Game Put the form in together, then we will get change These lames, all wanna know my pocket I'm a gangsta, so reality I drop it Broads bopping, keep me up like buffet n***as jock it, always got some'ing to say Hey hey, Fat Domino is a pimp Mob boss chop it up, eating steak and shrimp Evidence, dogs never find no traces Got my poker face on, holding all the aces [Hook - 2x] Presidential, is how I'm treated on front row Street Game, are mo'f**ers getting they do' This world, I have you tripping scratching your head Man up, take your lick and go fed [Quest] I'm posted on the cut, of that Mag and Dwayne Them FED's on my a**, cause the slabs that I slang Still I hustle to pimp my pockets, with mo' knots than a rope Still be busting no discussion, infra dot with a scope It ain't no hope for you b**h n***as, s**ers and snitch n***as Acting like b**hes with pussies, running your lips n***a You do the crime, you do the time Don't make a n***a run up in your house, and use the nine Bust two into your spine, for telling all the real n***as business Nobody can save you, when I k** no one witness Swear games with scope brains, spills from a distance Calicoes burry hoes, burn a n***a biscuit You on some Bennie Hill sh**, talking to laws You gon make me come through, and put a cross on your jaw You acting like you hard, when you know you a b**h When we don't really bar, cause we know you a snitch [Hook - 2x] [Quest] Presidential and Street Game, hooking up like feces A million dollar mission, knocking out buster b**hes Cleaning clocks like dishes, peep the watch that glisten Stand too hard I swear to God, mayn need to stop your vision Red bu*ter played the gutter, hustling cheese for fritos While these haters s**ing on p**y, trying to please these freak hoes Need to get your mind right, 'fore we run in your residential Mr. 3-2 from Street Game, and Q-U-E from Presidential [Troyo] Old mark a** n***a, get your money get out my face I'm po'ing up big mud, telling out skeet taste A cage go for sixteen, sitting high in the sky Crawling on 22's, this far I'm too fly Troyo, showing these boys the blue flame Damn right I'm Street Game, till the world set flame co*k it and aim, leaving you on your back pocket Ghetto affiliated, and fools they can't stop it (*talking*) Street P-O-P mayn, ghetto affiliates Willie what's up baby uh, 3-2 it go down mayn (it go down, Mr. Mr. f**ing your sister You know me, ok what's up with it We got the Juke around this motherf**er, yeah-yeah)