Lyrics

It's Mac p, I'm back again, full fledged American flag in here so y'all pledge A few of y'all sold some albums, yeah congrats The game in trouble, I must rescue rap Yo, I'm a hero! Sometimes I feel the same way Like the folks involved with Ground Zero And somebody owe me boy, I'm dead serious This year my Squad better blow to oblivious Yo, did you lose weight? Yeah, I got stamina Profile me like this and hold the camera I'm alone, so what y'all wanna do? Take over your faciliy like I'm John Q I rock mics, I Chris Rock, I Kid Rock I rock the house like I'm Run Rap conniseur, I rock Sean John velour B-boy stance and that's hardcore P-Dub, real name, no gimmicks Your style is over, finito, finished You a parasite, type lyrical germ You a sucker MC in layman terms, and We don't care nuttin 'bout you Yeah, we don't care, we come up in the spot sayin', oh yeah Oh yeah, throw your hands in the air Oh yeah, 'cause We don't care nuttin 'bout you Yeah, we don't care, we come up in the spot sayin', oh yeah Oh yeah, throw your hands in the air Oh yeah, 'cause Yeah, I got a track record, I spit fouls P don't stop, keep it grinding, puts it down fo' sho' (Grinding) My figgedy flow is sick siggedy, yo Watch me biggedy blow, and y'all niggedy know It's Def Squeezy, thirteen years in rap And now it's easy, I do things to please me Yo, I come through so crazy I'm a, "Stun'na" like M. Fresh and Baby Got more toys than Kay Bee, me and my yung'uns Slow down before you receive a summons And get hit for speeding, I break a switch off a tree You catch a beating for y'all misleading (Yeah!) Shame on you, when you step to, huh The Green Eyed Bandit, smile you on candid Rob J. Timberlake, I got Janet I'm in control now, ohh wow Yeah, 'cause that's how it is, and that's how I'm livin' I bring turmoil like Mike and Robin Givens And watch me go off a-go off A yes, yes, y'all, and show off and show off, and yes We don't care nuttin 'bout you Yeah, we don't care, we come up in the spot sayin', oh yeah Oh yeah, throw your hands in the air Oh yeah, 'cause Mac p, the word I preach to ya Control the airwaves so it can reach to ya The underground of rap ring, I'm David Tua The one round knockout, your eyeballs pop out High school dropout, I'm not gon' cop out I did the rhymin' thing and now a truck I hop out "Fiesta" I'm down with R. Kelly shit I'm, "Supa Dupa Fly" Missy Elliott I stay focused, keep the same cycle Do me, proceed to rock the world like Michael Without Chris Tucker, with no Marlon Brando Just give enough for J-Lo to handle So scream at me, holla, smoke signals Morse code, try a 2-way, or telephone And I give it to ya, all day in street Two turntables a mic and breakbeat, 'cause We don't care nuttin 'bout you Yeah, we don't care, we come up in the spot sayin', oh yeah Oh yeah, throw your hands in the air Oh yeah, 'cause You got about five seconds to get to the dance floor You got about two more seconds to get to the dance floor