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lirik lagu incarcerated scarfaces – macon hamilton

whattup to all my real n-ggas!

whattup to all my real b-tches!

smoking bones in the staircases gettin’ lifted

whip lash make ya neck bob as you feel it

i don’t get along with bullsh-t

oh no no, i am bout’ business

thou shall not bear a false witness

i rap til’ i’m ripping, the same ol sentance a psalm

the lord is my shephard i shall not want rhythm

for the 5? what is it that you want?

but dodge them people son, you know the pigs be oiking n-ggas

velma jinkies that’s a yoinks

i say ride out on em’ prove a point

i got points to prove baby, how you doing lady?

i can do att-tude that’s how you’ll make it

blessed to be so highly favored the vapors

biz markie, beat you low key

n0body in hip hop is built like me

unless you talking big just bring it back to bizzy though ^

i pullup in a vic with a silly hoe

she like why they call you sweet d-ck w-lly for?

i’m weird n-gga, when everything is really dope

word to my subconscious in the mac

alot of these rappers got dough but they can’t rap

alot of em’ got deals though (d-ld-‘s) but ain’t strapped (cool)

intact what’s under your wave cap

be glad i ain’t mad or it’s lay flat

say mac how you so cool with it?

cause’ i got head and hennessy and learned from the lessons they taught in school different

soaked game and played activision

i’m rude cause the rudest n-gga always gets it

once i exit the cuc-mb, wake up from the womb

hear the b-ss that go boom! i kick it

key to every city, i’m bout to give em’ held (h-ll) like t-tties

i eat good, i like hibachi

red light green light, can’t n0body stop me

me stops n0body just up jumps ya body

boom n-gga, more bars

hoes be leeching, arrencars

hardy har art, you’re a joke in a jar

aim for ya abs, ar (ar- ab)

vibe if you want but no faking the funk

calm as a monk on a bag full of a skunk

n-ggas you’se -ss like a motherf-cking donk

master p does not have your cd in his trunk

i am the hip that’s inside of your hump

acne on dos equis, but it bumps

spazz with pizzazz i’m the rapper you want

never be on my -ss ask for guidance we going

check the w.e.b. i’m dubois (the boy)

anita bake (baker) and you bring me joy

real n-gga heezy my souls on a plane

money ain’t a thing, jay z and jermaine

where they at though, ooh their go the police at my front door

ooh they ask a n-gga bout’ a kick door

said “i don’t know” but i did know

but better hop up off my d-ck you know you getting no info

blow em’ off like some indo

then get back to my cooking with no crisco

say taye t–zy only time i f-ck with 10-4

and if you don’t know, now you know n-gga

haam

- macon hamilton

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