Mac Of The Year lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
n*gga, I'm the motherf*ckin' mac of the motherf*ckin' year of the motherf*ckin' motherf*ckin' year, motherf*ckin' year, n*gga

[Verse]
I'm a mac, M-A-C and your b*tch know it
She can't relax, n*gga the bag and all he did was grow it
Ain't sh*t like this rap and this trap money
Either way, I'ma get paid, that's why I act funny
I was dead off the mud 'til she tap my pockets
I woke up out my sleep and took off like rockets
That's your big brother bag, that is not your wallet (Cap)
My youngest son just turned one, I could put him through college (Facts)
I bought the Benz off the lot with the low mileage (Facts)
All cash, no L's, f*ck a co-signer (Facts)
Somebody tell these motherf*ckers, I'm the big timer (sh*t)
I'm the reason why these n*ggas think they big timing
My b*tch bring me blues, your b*tch bring you problems
You be on that hoe back like a dirty condom (Ha)
I never trip on a b*tch I'm a real mobster
I crack a n*gga on the field like I'm Shaq Thompson (Mobster)
You ain't get the mud from the doc? I do not want it
All my enemies is dead, I don't got opponents
I drop a bag on your head and watch somebody blow it (Boom)
Yeah, my Perc' just kicked in, that b*tch got me goin'
Quarterback with the pack, gold tee, I throw it (Go long)
We ain't never shut down, my trap always rolling (b*tch)
I shopped so much at Barney's, they went extinct
Flyest n*ggas on two feet, it's Chang and SB
Passed up on your b*tch, she was tryna molest me
I rock ice and keep a stick like I'm Wayne Gretzky
When I first met the ho, "Can I get the check please?"
Sike, I'm really not that nice, you shoulda went and got a geek
I'm the n*gga in my hood, I should have my own street
I send your n*gga to the store for some chips and a drink
And he better come back with my change and a receipt
Tellin' Nef he never ran outta gas, they on E
f*ck your grandma that's sick and your partner that's deceased (f*ck that n*gga)
His headstone a Porta Potti, we gon' p*ss where he sleep
I was rich before Roddy and I still keep a gleek
Got so much game, the blind b*tch wanna see
Like an inmate, fresh out the hoe, I got mail now (Money)
If you don't see them n*ggas with me then we fell out
She love when I hop in the booth and go beast
I know the real shooter gang, your friends the police
You be giving them statements, and me? I don't speak
If she ride with the chain, the ho finna work her cleats
I bought a little twenty ounce just so I could drop a three
Beat the pus*y up for hours, I got stamina for weeks
Feelin' like I'm Austin Powers on this groovy ass beat (Groovy baby)
I can make a square one lady into a freak
I'ma independent P, f*ck this rap industry
The ho told me she ran away 'cause you weak