I've become accustomed to
going through customs
Pound in my pocket, hollerin' fuck them
I'm livin' that life that you only talk about I'm
fuckin' 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
What you think of that?
Niggas y 'all know that I kill niggas
slow and I live when it's done
Got labels sick, I know they hate that I'm
makin' they artists push them dates back
I don't need tattoos to prove
I packed two's
Get outta that fool and become dog food
Myth man, uh -huh, yeah that's me
Same nigga that don't give a basically
And I'm still smokin', it be like that
Your blunt went out nigga,
read like that
I'm from
M -A -R -C -Y -B -K style,
see bleep how
I'm from
M -A -R -C -Y -B -K style,
see cheetah how
I'm from
M -A -R -C -Y -B -K style, see bleep how
I'm from
M -A -R -C -Y -B -K style
C -G -I
I finally put in the game
right where I should be
And the gat laid right where it should be
Volley, 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 a shotty in the back
And for y 'all that's where
that I front for rep
Only thing I run is
O's or
Coke and clips or
Tep
With a code
D, that's a menace to the people
Yeah, we sold
D and made a livin' off of people
The ghetto interrupted us,
and we told ourselves how to add and scale
What's bag and sell,
and how to aim and shoot
And I got range when the wrist lock,
wherever the dot spot leaves the tame
You keep actin' like you can't dine the blaze,
and I'll let sixteen of em dive in your wave
I'm from
M -A -R -C -Y -B -K -Style -C -E
I'm from
M -A -R -C -Y -B -K -Style -C -E
I'm from
M -A -R -C -Y -B -K -Style -C -E
Call it back to
Z -A -R -C -Y -V -K -S -T -A
-R -C -G -L -M
Picture me rollin' in that 500
Benz
I got no love for you niggas,
it ain't no need to be friends
I a fuck bout him, no need to talk bout him
He act violent, I let the 4 -4 pound him
The codees, nigga, no statements
Just shots, empty shell casings
No prints,
V's, no tint
Phone,
Sprint, 6, no chips, nigga
R -O, yeah,
M -A
Real as hood and click, nigga,
Caprende
You bitch niggas know I'm focused,
right?
You still catch
M -E -M,
Logan, right?
In a black
V, with the gat on my lap, shovel in the trunk,
go ahead nigga, front
This
M -D -E -M -P -H -I -S bleep hoppin'
out to a 1 -3 pitch, nigga
I'm -A -R -C -Y -B -K style,
see bleep
I'm from
M -A -R -C -Y -B -K style, see
I'm from
M -A -R -C -Y -B -K style, see bleep
R -C -Y -B -K -S -M -C -G -I -L
DJ
Clue
Dylan
Storm
Roc -A -Fella
The
Professional
Part 2
