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lirik lagu mack’n and mobb’n – beeda weeda

[verse 1: beeda weeda]
it’s not a gang, it’s a lifestyle
i keep it mackin, and we smack without the lifestyle
she gotta pay a p, she wanna live this lifestyle
she gotta pay a fee before she get the pipe down
mobbin, all the pistols got wiped down
i’m from oakland, california, it’s a trife town
i got respect up in the projects, ice down
somethin on deck, whip wet, you might drown
push it by the pound, push it by the ounce
push it outta bounds, push it off and bounce
i need a tall amount, i need some more to count
i’m gettin bored with these thousands, i need a milli now
i been r*t*rded my n*gga, i’m goin silly now
i’m talkin stupid chips, n*ggas want to k!ll me now
shе didn’t feel me then, i bet thе b*tch feel me now
planet of the grapes, all we ever blow is loud
i got expensive tastes and i don’t like to wait in crowds
that’s that boss sh*t, work hard to floss sh*t
mackin on these hoes and i’m mobbin on these n*ggas
shooters in the front and back, i go obama on these n*ggas
usalama like osama, it’s honor amongst these k!llers
free debo; if he was home, there’d be problems amongst you n*ggas
throw them double ms up, everything rimmed up
have her digging in that purse til everythang spent up…bwoy!
[hook]
mackin and mobbin, mackin and mobbin
mackin and mobbin, mackin and mobbin
i’m just mackin and mobbin, i’m just mackin and mobbin
i’m just mackin and mobbin, i’m just mackin and mobbin
yeah i sent that ho, yeah i broke that b*tch
if i run into them suckas, ima wake they sh*t
i’m just mackin and mobbin, mackin and mobbin
mackin and mobbin, mackin and mobbin

[verse 2: messy marv]
beanie cap low
look like my do’ sittin on slims
gucci belt full of gs, tryna turn em all to ms
hood n*gga sh*t on, burnin rubber off rims
clip full of teflons, chain full of big gems
and on my mama man, i’m slidin up on everythang
and i be slidin everyday, but you don’t hear me mane
they locked me down in a cell, and i was yellin “bay!”
settrippin like them eses in east la
came home, n*gga settrippin wit a k
like they can get it, i don’t f*ck wit them n*ggas anyway
yeah and e’ry n*gga with me tryna boss up
frisco n*ggas known to send a toss up
fillmoe mane, mess keep it real n*gga
f*ck all that sucka sh*t, show me how you feel n*gga!
f*ck talkin bout it, n*gga we can get into it
you n*ggas ain’t corleone, mob n*ggas just do it
[verse 3: b*legit]
i been mackin and mobbin
got that mac and the choppa
got that pack of the sour stashed in the back of the honda
peanut b*tter and coffee, turkey bags of them condoms
sent a pack to milwaukee, sent them tickets to boston
mothaf*cka i’m awesome
i don’t do it that often
lil bo and some molly, cookie dough and i got em
we be blowin and poppin, rockin all of that louis
say she met me in vegas and let me rub on her booty
i don’t shoot for the stars, i like to shoot em down
i’m like a u*haul truck the way i move around
scubadivin through the water, n*ggas usually drown
i find a way to put it down off in any town
i’m in the kitchen with the pot like i’m betty crock’
whippin ready rock, n*ggas ready on the block
i let it pop
you know i miss my n*gga pac, so i be mackin and mobbin off in that cutty drop

[hook]
mackin and mobbin, mackin and mobbin
mackin and mobbin, mackin and mobbin
i’m just mackin and mobbin, i’m just mackin and mobbin
i’m just mackin and mobbin, i’m just mackin and mobbin
yeah i sent that ho, yeah i broke that b*tch
if i run into them suckas, ima wake they sh*t
i’m just mackin and mobbin, mackin and mobbin
mackin and mobbin, mackin and mobbin
[verse 4: j. stalin]
mackin and mobbin, got this big banga on the side of me
she know i’m ten toes down when i come around
got the line on the powder and on the pounds
n*ggas lay it down, you know what i’m hittin foe
you know what i’m up to when you see me in that trenchcoat
purple smoke in my throat, smokin on that tightrope
livewire, b*tch i’m wetter than a speedboat
shout out my brother jaz, he on that east coast
real n*ggas keep tools: home depot
i got what you need like my real n*gga dino
mac under the peacoat, mac under the peacoat
your b*tch she got deep throat, your b*tch she got deep throat
real n*ggas runnin kicks back like flojo
oh no, never talk to the po*po
but when i say let’s go…my real n*ggas clip up, torpedo

- beeda weeda

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