Got Mine - Fresh Coast

What’s happening what’s happening it’s Mac and

The M-A-C y’all mister M-A-C motherfucking Mall

And this is Non Perishables 4, you know what I mean?

We through here, Mac

Ay, ay, uh

Ay, keep it solid I been mobbin', I don’t got the time to chill like that

Ay, niggas fallin' off lookin' lost, tell me why you feel like that

I got mine, it’s 'bout time

Can’t tell me shit

Ay, I got mine, it’s 'bout time

Niggas can’t tell me shit

I been had a sick-type gift to stack paper (paper)

1994, point fives and wax paper (bitch)

What if and George pulled off that last caper?

(blah)

Stepping in my Vivienne Westwood black gators (oh)

Free of all beef, I wave more arms than Vishnu

Plus infrared dots will convert you to a Hindu (come again)

Faith in my shooter, he a god with the nickel

Young boy, off a bottle with the tool, Tommy Pickles (Rugrats)

And now we’re cutty getting married to the game (oh)

Wrapping her up in all white Mary Jane (sweet)

She stunting in that Vera Wang dress wedding day (designer)

Time to celebrate, bitch I be

Chanel let more coke ring out than Green Lantern

So many rubies on me you could call me Pink Panther (oh)

Caddy’s ghost appeared, told me not to eat Xanax

Then he jooged me with a new plug who only speak Spanish (bueno)

Soak up game from Bay legends

Stay reppin' where ever I step these J7's

Ay, roll a chop out a fanta leaf

Ay, let me show that I got a plot to beef

Locked in, me and my niggas dippin', hittin' corners, the block bend

Niggas be trippin', different switchin' on ya' we not them

I been solid from the start, learned a lot at Mosswood Park, like how to spot a

mark

Ah, politickin', patna listen, you a walkin' lick

Pockets strippin', wallet missin' just for talkin' shit

You outta pocket, play ya' role, out of line, pay the toll

Lames wanna play to win the game is sold, break the mold

Niggas gettin' murdered dog, used to read Murder Dog

Till the curtain call the circle small I never heard of y’all

Back to where they came from

Play dumb, bands over bands niggas bang drums

Rah

Ay, keep it solid I been mobbin', I don’t got the time to chill like that

Ay, niggas fallin' off lookin' lost, tell me why you feel like that

I got mine, it’s 'bout time

Can’t tell me shit

Ay, I got mine, it’s 'bout time

Niggas can’t tell me shit

I do this for Tall T, Sean P and Kodyack

PH to Young B, Caddy and the homie Jack

No one can hold me back, I’m going where the dough be at

Till my revenue havin' more streams than your Kodi app

So if it isn’t payin' then I’m stayin' home

They wouldn’t let me in they lanes and so I made my own

You motherfuckers think I’m playin' then I’m breakin' bones

Ya' flow is dated and overrated like Game Of Thrones

I put a culture vulture’s head in a bag

And choke Kid Rock to death with his Confederate flag

Nah, we ain’t buddy buddy, leavin' you dummies bloody

I may just run for mayor of Stockton in 2020

Get yo' jaw wired when I fracture ya' grill

And you gon' be a mumble rapper for real

These bitter hip hop purists, have really got me cringin'

My name is young Okweez man, and this is my opinion, this is my opinion

Mac and about that action, 'bout that blasting silencer cue you closed-caption

Hate you pussies with a passion, gloved up, and ski masking

Head shot, toe-tagging, monster when we mashing

And mobbing, with bank-robbing, we get it popping

Cutthroat killer on a mission and failure’s not a option

Cutthroat killer on a mission and failure’s not a option

All praises to the honorable Mac Dre, Fast Gunna, and the king JA

Got Cinnabons in my K, all about my fetty 'fore they free Young Lay

Because there’s so many suspect rappers to slay

But we ain’t talking like Beyoncé, we talking like tying up yo' fiancée

Chop her up and throw her in the cuts they’ll never find the body

Nigga this Mac Mall, I never back down, I blast off

I put a price on yo' head, and show you what ya' life cost

So if you ever wanna find out who the motherfucking realest

Come to 707 Crestside, nigga we drill shit

Keep it solid I been mobbin', I don’t got the time to chill like that

Ay, niggas fallin' off lookin' lost, tell me why you feel like that

I got mine, it’s 'bout time

Can’t tell me shit

Ay, I got mine, it’s 'bout time

Niggas can’t tell me shit