Mafia Music

Album: Deeper Than Rap (2009)
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  • I got a feeling nigga really that my money be the root
    Look up at the stars she like honey where the roof?
    Pull up hear the dogs canaries they goin roof
    Even once had a job pouring tar up on a roof
    That boy had it hard no facade its the truth
    So now when I Menage and get massaged its the proof
    Proofs in the pudding and that baking sodas taking
    Paper that I'm making got her taking photos naked
    Listening to niggas like whistling at Wendy Williams
    I flip my middle finger I'm chilling on 20 million
    The rumors turn me on I'm masturbating at the top
    These hoes so excited they catching every drop
    I'm dodging the debacles like pot holes in Jamaica
    We cut down the weed bury the paper on them acres
    Martin had a dream bob got high I still do both but somehow I got by

    Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
    Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
    That Mayweather money looking funny in the light
    But who really cares we just throw it in the air
    Celebrating wealth pouring moet in her hair
    Excuse me her weave the blue is a weave
    Trunk full of white car smell like blue cheese
    That boy get salad beef bout movements
    BM dubs on them big things looking foolish
    Shawty sitting low big things popping
    Tip on the glock from a crip up in Compton shooting at the cops
    Fuck one time I gave her to the block
    I fucked 1 time we boys in the hood and nigga you lil trey
    Suppress ya appetite we taking ya lil' tray
    Love my handgun but my chopper still the shit
    Banned in 1994 but I'm to legit to quit
    1996 kilos was the shit but that be better then roofing that shit be bad for ya skin
    Niggas was ruthless and lord knows that I've sinned
    But I thought about my future in the loops I could pin
    Walked out on a gig and I turned to the streets
    Kept my name low key I ain't heard from in weeks
    I came up wit a strategy to come up mathematically
    I did it for the city but now everybody mad at me
    Motherfuck em all they sweat from my balls
    If I drop another album I did that for my dogs
    10 Maybach's everybody riding big
    I just sit back like look what I did
    Then I bow my head and beg for forgiveness
    Once I said my prayer everybody back to business

    Smoking on a blunt in my own restaurant people looking from a distance think I'm big daddy kunk
    Reincarnated spirit of a g beef ill make u dinner take a seat so we could eat
    A Farrakhan aura paws on the pork you eat from the bowl while ya dog need a fork
    Niggas ain't loyal snakes slithered in they coil im laughing at you
    Cause kill you niggas when I'm bored

    We stepping on ya crew until you motherfuckers crush
    And making sweet love to every women that you lust
    I love to pay her bills can't wait to pay her rent Curtis Jackson baby mama
    I ain't asking for a cent
    Burn the house down gotta buy another
    Don't forget the gas can jealous stupid motherfucker
    To another chapter paper that I captured
    Caught up in the rapture off of gunshots and laughter
    Homicide is humor and nigga you looking funny
    Women love to stare cause they know they see the money
    I open up my mind by opening bank accounts deposit a 100 stacks
    Break up wont take it out baby that's a gift maybe you could live
    I knew it wouldn't work but I just like to give used to run the street
    Young nigga bare feet now I'm in the suites and I'm eating crab meats
    Ice so right other rappers envy they calling all my jewelers up asking what he spending
    Thinking bout BOSS not thinking bout them here's a letter to my enemies one I won't send amen Writer/s: JOHNNY MOLLINGS, L. ELLIOT, LENNY MOLLINGS, M. CARPENTER, WILLIAM ROBERTS
    Publisher: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Downtown Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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