Verse 1: (Boobonic)
First of all I'm a T-H-U-G
Boobonic nigga, who the fuck you be?
If you don't really want this block then move over
so you don't get big weight and lose it like Oprah
caught a case down South in V.A. court
the game change every year like EA Sport
you see now they got platinum, mad you got gold?
my corner's like the Beatles nigga, get your rock and roll
niggas mad 'cause the Feds stay on me 'cause they in cars
mad 'cause I oversee the Projects like A&R's
try not to do hits myself, I order that
while you cooked Four and a half and got a quarter back
you play the tough guy role good, I ought to clap
and did alot of rappin' too, I should've bought a track
I had to check this comb in your rug, checkin' for soil
got popped while you was under your hood checkin' your oil.
Verse 2: (The Clipse)
I graduated from Eight balls to blow thats cake size
match me grand for grand and lets make these stakes rise
mahavaji rich, in Egypt with eight wives
while my fam rocks links and medallions thats plate size
you up against The Clipse, believe theres no chance
what you feel about hollows piercin' through your throat glands?
see, I sweet talk the Devil, take him on a slow dance
while your hardcore posse's is extras and road hands
get your Fifty deep, us rollin' in Convoys
you fuckin' with grown Men and y'all is young boys
love double action, pack anything with loud noise
as we kidnap your partners and use 'em as decoys.
Chorus -
If y'all ain't got guns (I don't represent you)
if you ain't got coke (I don't represent you)
if you ain't got dough (I don't represent you)
fuck ya clique and that bullshit you been through
(repeat)
Verse 3: (Mr. Mr.)
I never hold back, I cock back and twist ya
I never been shot mothafucka, it's Mista
I scream who's coke? who's whip is that?
I want the ma
