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Above the Law - Call It What You Want lyrics
Featuring 2Pac, Money B] You've now entered the quest to, the black triangle Now you know the reason for the Black Mafia theory, hahaha Yes it has many meanings, but no matter how you define it it still comes out black See it's just a hair trim So you can call it what you want [2Pac] Now I clown around, when I hang around, with the Underground but when I'm with the Mafia we DROPPIN YA And if you're a hoe then I'll be knockin ya, baby why not You shouldn't jock me cause I'm popular The group with the glock, I love to pop the gun Coppers get shot, they shouldn't try to stop the Mafia 2Pac'll pack a person, pump the trunk I'm bumpin G-Funk, but you can call it what you want How many times I gotta tell ya, don't ignore me Either be my hoe or hit the do', you're nothin for me (see ya!) That's why I love to go on tour G Scores of whores behind the door, a nigga's naughty Now, I'm sippin on a forty So you can call it what you want just pass the blunt and kick it Money [Money B] Well, I am the danger, THE DANGER, similar to a killer I rhyme for rounds of conflicts chomp and stomp em while y'all chillin in Tokyo, check it as I choke a slow poke rapper Capped his ass faster, than a half of pound of crepes'll go on Mother's Day First and fifteenth, another way of sayin it I got new clips so trip but it's OK to get your crew Cause ooh I'll send your team to the showers They true and do and rippin and got the Wonder Twin powers I devour much venom, lunch breaks I shit em, I just stink Whaddya think, this is a threat? Just forget about it Come back, you're done black, see Cutty was the stopper But you'll call me the indo when I chop ya with the shopper Sting ya with the stinger, flex the trigger finger I blow you to bits and I be gettin a kick out of grabbin the mic and flingin lyrics with the maximum security I smoke a spliff but I'm not Jamaican, so won't you let a Yankee Doodle Doo what he hasta, raise my hand and cast a hellafied spell you can't tell you better ask a weatherman he'll sigh and reply, "You shoulda stayed in the house" Cause Mon is gonna rain on their parades [Cold 187um] Nowww, clear the smoke, and grab a fool by his throat And don't let him go til he holla holla billygoat Now Money Money Money B, once said to me "187 why you wanna be a G?" Welllll.. I like to clock big G's, and hang out all night And never worry bout a bitch, cause she can't tell me shit Plus, money money is a pimp thang (what?) Cause see if you was in my shoes, you'd be doin the same So don't ever ever fuck with, I'm a G-er playa Cause when I'm bustin on a punk, I could never be a customer Now peep this, cause when I'm goin deep the only customers gettin served in the housssse, is the pussy I freak They wanna pop that ying-yang I tell em, "Sit down, shut up bitch, and let me kick game" (y'know) Cause hoes always be sayin they got it goin on but if they wanna get with a nigga like me they gotta pay a fee, I am not the No Mack Nigga, from the planet called Silk I'm from the planet Black Mafia Life, that freaks pimps Yo, come take a sip of the psycho-mega- pimpsome-hoesta-must-be-a-playa Now hold up, wait a second Nah, I fucked you bitches on the last record, yo It's like I'm high on a raggamuffin spliff Me the dope sound what a man, the myth (come) Mon they wanna see me fade shit, like I did last year So I POST on em, then I COAST on em No I never never never had a murder rap And if you snitch you say I did it you're bound to get your neck snapped So there it is, and how it's gonna be So I pass the joint, to my man KM.G [KM.G] Well you can call it what you want but if you don't I'm still a nigga with a pimp strut, ooh, a macadamia nut Ah-say what you want, I'm workin for a cha-ohh Well alright, you little silly ass hoe Now when you want to rhyme to boo and get tramped (get tramped) Give a call to the clinic, ATL's the pimp camp and see which playa, is up for the downstroke (Cause you skeez-in, cause you broke) So toast them hoes like I said before I fuck four bitches a day, and I'm lookin for more Cause cords of scores of hoes be leavin my house like, BAM, and I'm like, DAMN Now my niggaz done labelled me the dangerous neighborhood nastyman Cause they know I can When you wake up in the morning I only give ya five pushes I'll be out by your garage, awaitin behind the bushes drinkin coffee, smoove waitin to talk see like a true hoe gigolo should be See I'm a giant and the rest of them are fakers Especially when it comes to the bitches and they moneymakers A simp nigga hesitate to dish a tramp but I don't So ease back Mafioso on the corner, what you, want |
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