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lirik lagu m.a.d.e. (making a difference everyday) – vic spencer

[intro]
you know the difference between being made and being made
you will never know p*ssy boy

[verse 1]
this the monster session
no mercy my sh*t’s aggressive
wild style driving down the wrong way with bad directions n*gga
i’m the electric slide type so watch the footwork
i still lose ‘em ‘cause ain’t no structure in your movement
you had the hood reported, reported you get extorted
now i’m recorded, reminding you p*ssies you ain’t important
see i’m made boy
they want the table but don’t wanna work
but f*ck ‘em though
believe we got the sherbert goose up on the dunce
give my hands some lands so we can run the block monopoly
just buy the blocks then tell them get the f*ck up off your property n*gga
see y’all stragglers i’m more of a haggler
i’ll rock and tag ya
get beaten badder than watch me scatter like it don’t matter
[?] you’re on trash boy
[?] imma give them what they ask for
i’m showboating, alley*oops off the backboard
so while a n*gga scores mr. never wife a wh0re
mother*
[verse 2]
(c’mon, ah)
i smoke weed f*ck your cigarettes
i get high in the sky with a single breath
ain’t no copying my episodes
i aim high you b*tch n*ggas better hit the flow
[?] papers for the players getting paper
call back before them little n*ggas change ya
i light up for the slight rush
n*ggas mad we got a hundred different styles they wanna fight us
f*ck yo trends, f*ck your new threads
f*ck yo chains, f*ck yo boo head
i’m authentic
good business i rock sweats with my sneakers
i’m talking sh*t through your mother f*cking speakers
alex p haley, stroking while she’s creaming
cumming when she’s screaming
i’m on it ain’t no secret, yeah
i’m fapping to her silhouette
her pillow wet
you kind of freaky girl i’m into that

[interlude]
being made is somebody that’s making a difference everyday
do you make a difference everyday
i think not p*ssy boy
get the f*ck away from me, ugh
n*ggas disgust the f*ck out of me
[verse 3]
a few turned beats in a body bag
to tag ‘em
45 gold and protect ‘em like a trojan magnum
spit colder than capricorn season
you couldn’t be fresher if he let dapper dan sleeve him
run a team like tom donovich they calling me coach
my finesse game [?] in the post
quit my nine to five i was tired of eyeing the clock
black wallstreet mindstate to monopolize the block
don’t let ‘em stack like jenga, supply like fema
and stay low cause cops want us locked, no misdemeanors
make a left on stony island you on eastside now
blunt full of grade a like throwing peace signs down
i spit the heat then watch a soul burn slow to this beat
we in deep, five lions k!lling hundreds of sheep
it’s gravity, opposition straight ended in tragedy
i made fresh, i spit bars k!lling your faculty

[verse 4]
the new tommy gun came in
good with the numbers like rain man
you get broken up with that weak frame fam
all body shots, and leg drops, and elbows
it’s looking like a mother f*cking saloon brawl
you’ll get hit with the barstool and soon fall
i was made for he cold weather
[?] rock the hoodie underneath the pele leather
take down your peoples call me john shaft
don’t need dre for the aftermath
best believe brea chef the cash
ran his pockets when that n*gga crashed
he was drunk we was burning grass
he choked him with the mic cord he was jealous
that b*tch wanted a jet, she didn’t fight for him
guess he a sucker for love
i’m cold hearted, just a preview
goodfella like ray liotta
[verse 5: vic spencer]
no pinky rings n*gga
you know what i mean
don’t get mad p*ssy
the home where the n*ggas love to rob and steal
n*gga burn pockets like the last twenty dollar bill
half on the petrol, half on the sack
on my way to the enemies house with plans on coming back
pull up on the block like nothing happened
n*gga threw on a beat, a n*gga started rapping
no squares in my circle, you got a curfew
so sh*t won’t be fair if i hurt you
in my city i’m better than every n*gga that’s on and popping
in the hood you [?] but at home you [?] (ew)
[?] sit on grass everyday, put you beneath it tonight
in a safe haven with a maid apr*n
whipping up a difference while bumping some shae davis
sh*t nasty like sh*t b*lls with m*ffins (ew)
you n*ggas out here playing kickball with russians
f*ck outta here
go that way n*gga
you not making no moves
stiff mother f*ckers man
you ain’t made for the streets
p*ssy boy

- vic spencer

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