"MF" lyrics
Mazi, what did you do?
Nah for real
It's too easy
Word to mother, fuck you and your mother
I'm a mother fucker
Vampire, your bitch vampire
She a blood sucker
Rush hour, serving all the white
Feel like Chris Tucker
B.B. Simon, she do Simon Says
With my big buckle
911, not about the planes
My Porsche 911
George Bush, talkin' bout the strain
Not about his name
President, like the Rolley diamonds
Plus their cuban pockets
Gary Payton, plus a little cup
Lit like Houston Rockets
Margiela, had a little trip
Spill it on my Mace's
Two perc, plus a little drank
Don't know what I'm takin'
Back there, you was talkin' tough
But your voice was shakin'
Nice guy, stop acting rough
'Cause my 9. hating, dummy
Nigga
Every time I step up in the kitchen, rubber bands
Doin' work, they flippin' pans
Seen that shit was cut
That shit ain't red, I'm like damn, damn (prr)
Hit my migo for another strip, my shit jammed
Damn
Uh
Nah for real
It's too easy
Word to mother, fuck you and your mother
I'm a mother fucker
Vampire, your bitch vampire
She a blood sucker
Rush hour, serving all the white
Feel like Chris Tucker
B.B. Simon, she do Simon Says
With my big buckle
911, not about the planes
My Porsche 911
George Bush, talkin' bout the strain
Not about his name
President, like the Rolley diamonds
Plus their cuban pockets
Gary Payton, plus a little cup
Lit like Houston Rockets
Margiela, had a little trip
Spill it on my Mace's
Two perc, plus a little drank
Don't know what I'm takin'
Back there, you was talkin' tough
But your voice was shakin'
Nice guy, stop acting rough
'Cause my 9. hating, dummy
Nigga
Every time I step up in the kitchen, rubber bands
Doin' work, they flippin' pans
Seen that shit was cut
That shit ain't red, I'm like damn, damn (prr)
Hit my migo for another strip, my shit jammed
Damn
Uh
Writer(s): Justin Kirkpatrick
