Come On (Album Version|Explicit)

(Word up )

Uhh

I've become accustomed to goin through customs

Pound in my pocket hollerin "F**K THEM " (What )

I'm livin that life that you only talk about

I'm f**kin them hoes that you only thought about

I spend that money but you won't spend about

As much that I made off my last single out

Whatchu think of that Niggaz y'all know

That I kill niggaz slow when I live for this dough (Holla )

Got labels sick I know they hate that

I'm makin they artists push them dates back (C'mon )

I don't need tattoos to prove I pack tools

Go 'head and act fool and become dog food

Memph Man uh-huh yeah that's me

Same ni**a that don't give a "basically"

And I'm still smokin it be like that

Ya blunt went out ni**a relight that

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Bleek how

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Geda how

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Bleek how

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Geda how

Yeah

I'm finally put in the game right where I should be

And the gat laid right where it should be (Ha ha )

Violate you be put where you should be

Have your family and friends screamin "How could he "

Walk the streets with a body on his back

Ride around in a V with the shottie in the back (Uh-huh)

And for y'all that swear that I front for rep

Only thing that I front is hoes and coke and clips of tef

With a co-d that's a menace to the people

Yeah we sold D and made a livin off of people (Yeah )

Ghetto corrupted us and we taught ourselves

How to add and scale plus bag and sell

And how to aim and shoot

And I got brain when the wrist locked

Wherever the dot spot leave the tape

You keep actin like you can't die in a blaze

And I let sixteen of 'em dive in your wake

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Bleek how

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Geda how

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Bleek how

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Geda how

Picture me rollin in that five hundred Benz

I got no love for you niggaz it ain't no need to be friends (Clue )

I give a f**k 'bout 'em no need to talk 'bout 'em

He act bout it I let the fo'-fo' pound 'em

The co-d's ni**a no statements

Just shots empty shell casings

No prints V's no tint

Phone Sprint Six no chips ni**a

R-O yeah M-A

Realist hood and clique ni**a comprende

You b**ch niggaz know I'm focused right

You still catch M-E-M loc'n right (Ha ha )

In the black V wit the gat on my lap

Shovel in the trunk go 'head ni**a front

This M dot E-M-P-H-I-S Bleek

Coppin out to a one to three you b**ch ni**a

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Bleek how

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Geda how

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Bleek how

I'm from M A R C Y

B K style see Geda how

DJ Clue Desert Storm

Roc-a-Fella

The Professional Part 2

Ha ha