M.Y.M.B lyrics

[Intro]
Huh, hard di*k for ya mama, b*tch
You know this sh*t a meal
Hey, check me out

[Verse 1]
I can make you cook me some’ special, nothin’ simple (Simple)
Disrespect your n*gga, prolly f*ck you in his rental (Rental)
I can make you feel good for the moment, not forever (Ever)
b*tch, I got a b*tch, she’ll prolly beat you into heaven (Heaven)
You just play your role, or you just roll, make your decision (Decision)
Either way, I’m chillin’, we still cool, boo, ain’t no dissin’ (Dissin’)
Keep it macaroni, b*tch, I’m Tony, not Montana (‘Tana)
When you need that good, just hit my line, I’ll lay the hammer
Got this collard-green-cookin’ gangsta b*tch, she the truth, mane
Make your loot, mane, got the juice with a Goose, mane
Get her girls turnt, get brunt with the lick reed
They some’ thot-jones, hot-jones, they a sick breed

[Chorus]
Mack your main b*tch, mack your main b*tch
Mack your main b*tch, mack your main b*tch
She gon’ pop it for the guala (I’ma mack your main b*tch)
Show your ass and make ‘em holla (I’ma mack your main b*tch)
Mack your main b*tch, hey
[Bridge]
I’m so chilly, I get diggy, can you dig me? (Can you dig me?)
Ain’t for play, so, baby, tell me: is you with it? (Is you with it?)
Shoot the smoove, I spark my doobie, make a move (I make a move)
She get to bitin’, lookin’ tight, she play it cool
In that red thong, this your song
Good boof, got the loot, sh*t, you like that strong
You know that, hey, you know that
Got to pray to the Bishop if you want your ho back, know that

[Verse 2]
Okay, now, I can get you nasty, some’ you never imagined (Imagined)
Feelin’ so damn high, you thought that you was f*ckin’ Aladdin (‘Laddin)
I can make you feel good for the moment, not forever (Ever)
b*tch, I got a b*tch, she’ll be at your door around seven (Seven)
You just play your role, or you just roll, make your decision (‘Cision)
Either way, I’m chillin’, we still cool, boo, ain’t no dissin’ (Dissin’)
Keep it macaroni, b*tch, I’m Tony, not Montana (‘Tana)
When you need that good, just hit my line, I'll lay the hammer
Got this collard-green-cookin’ gangsta b*tch, she the truth, mane
Make your loot, mane, got the juice with a Goose, mane
Prolly tell lies, ain’t surprised, they some fake hoes
Ricki Lake hoes, flake hoes, shake-and-bake hoes

[Chorus]
Mack your main b*tch, mack your main b*tch
Mack your main b*tch, mack your main b*tch
She gon’ pop it for the guala (I’ma mack your main b*tch)
Show your ass and make ‘em holla (I’ma mack your main b*tch)
Mack your main b*tch, hey