Various Artists - Mega's On His Own lyrics

* originally on the "Deep Blue Sea" OST as "Mega's On His Own" [Cormega] Yo, yo What, what Wanna bounce? Come on, come on What, what Bounce, bounce Check it out y'all Yo, you see the Benz I'm in, with BBS rims Playing Lil' Kim's part off The Benjamins I ain't a player, I just wear Tims No need for gators, my feet can't swim I'm in Reno, Nevada, sippin' a pena colada How many n***as can see Montanna? This movie's k**in' and budgin' Women love me in polo jeans and rugbys You can hate it or love it, imiatate it or dub it Compared to us, n***as ain't nuttin' It's funny how n***as get paid for frontin' Glorifying crimes, and they ain't done 'em My rhymes'll split 'em like pimpin', Dom P sippin' I'm not a baller, haven't even lived it Women callin', since my days in the crib crawlin' I plan to live enormous I live nike dunks, icey chunks A fly wifey I can trust Not that she gon' wanna hesit me for re-up I might be, Iron Mike if you try to entice me I say this politely, tell it to a friend Hard from the start, get money to the end What up with Cormega? Did you see him? Leanin' in the BM with the rim's gleamin' [Chorus - Carl Thomas] Mega gonna hold his own He always knew he could do it alone And when he rhymes Everybody's gonna know [Cormega] Yo, I write rhymes for the flyest whips, finest chicks And any rappin' n***a that thinks he's as nice as this See me chillin' in clubs with women and thugs Whoever wanna test this, we fill 'em with slugs My j**lery gliestenin', rhymes usually sickenin' Game like Fab 5 at Michigan, you listening? Pimps, I bust 'em, n***as, don't trust 'em Snitches, don't want 'em in my sh** We in a tunnel, buyin' mo' by the bundle You know when we come through, get it right But dead? right, techs spit nice I know where you read my man was jessying your wife I suggest you chill unless you ill enough to test the sk** That I possess n***as, for real I'm the last of the mohecans, rhyme ill flow lethal Due to magazines, there's no equal No sequel to my flow evil, deletin' your people We through seein' time, you're see-through Nas off the meter, rhyme for the Beamers Roll wit' overacheivers, my people, my people from madenas Where you at dime-peices, fly features? Lookin' so right my man is dying to meet ya I know your baby dad just buying you sneakers But I'm a keep it real, I ain't cheap Check it out [Chorus] [Cormega] Yo, to the haters, lovers, thug baby mommys Walk around me tryin' to play stuck-up See me in a ride and wanna say "what's up?" I put my foot and the gas and tell they a** "tough luck" I don't start beef, I finish it My enemies hearts diminishin' Before a rapper had dough, you didn't You a pathetic n***a, first it was Biggie and Pac Now you jealous of Jigga You like a breast implant, fake on the inside You nice, let's battle for dough Mr. Big-Time On Hot 97, or live at Envy's I can a**-bend you and still leave with 10 g's Too real for you, what you dream I live and breath Whoever wanna intervene, come on, get your team And I'm a show you who the illest 'Cause everybody know who the realest Now feel it [Chorus]