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MC Ren - Mr. Fuck Up lyrics
* (NOT Cash Money -- MC Ren's brother) My niggaz call me Grinch and yes I'm known to be a fuck up Loaded clip, folded sticks, my lifts and double cuffed up Put my stick so nigga feel my pockets with the dollar 'Cause they rock keep the stock in a private prison parlor Grinch you did it, your black ass really did it Give Bone the microphone and let him kill it Give Bone the microphone and watch me beat you like a cop Lil' G from the hall so the maggot won't stop And plus I'm packin' punches always keep a good grip My homies call me Bone from the Whole Damn Click I live like a mack and keep the bitches on my dick You sorry sap sips still hangin' on my shit Compton is the heart and that's where we all from The jackin' goin' on in the hood and in the slum And don't be caught slippin' while we dippin' the 4 'Cause Ren'll grab his nine and watch him smoke 'em from the door And then we make a dash and put that ass in the air True checkin' done by the true fuckin' player I'm headed to the cut with straight chronic in my pock Rainin' make 'em kill 'em 'cause I'm servin' 'em spot And that's how it's done I keep it flowin' like a sailor My beats are large my feats are star, some called me Chuck Taylor Then I call the Juvy 'cause I know we gotta Coupe Don't worry 'bout a damn we got the end, we gettin' loot Then call me Mr. Dopeman when I'm chillin' in the spot My niggaz call me Bishop when I'm rollin' with my glock The crackers call me bandit when I'm runnin' from the cops And the bitches call me daddy when I'm tearin' up the cock Yo the title's Mr. Fuck up so I figure that I'm fucked Got no luck, shit, gotta g |
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