Doing What We Do (The Rompalation) - Mac Dre, Mac Dre Ft Dame, Da Unda Dogg, PSD

Ay, check this out, right, who we got in here, cuddie?

We got the Romper muthafuckin' Room in this muthafucka

Crew Thang and the Five-Trey-Fizzive

Strictly SES, straight from the muthafuckin' Crest

That’s right.

Mac muthafuckin' Dre is in this

Coolio, you know, Da’Unda’Dogg

That’s right.

Mac muthafuckin' Mall

And the Sugawolf Pizzimp

Not the pimp… what about PSD a/k/a Stevie D, bitch

Oh, y’all didn’t know?

This is what we do…

My lyrical flow got me dwellin' up on the past

Servin' ‘em on that ass, gettin' my cash, comin' up fast

And’ll blast you in a minute, drama, quick to jump up in it

So end it ‘fore you begin it ‘cause I’m down to represent it

And’ll send you higher to your Messiah once I open fire

At your own desire I’ll flat you like a tire

Wire me a kite if you full of fright, that electric sight

Ain’t no joke, niggas be comin' up short thinkin' they gonna fight

Talkin' about that weed, servin ‘em sacks of indo;

what you need?

All of my homies keyed, niggas free from the life of greed

Twisted up on the mixes, won’t you fix us niggas somethin' to drank

Can’t get enough dizank up out the bizank, got put in my tank

Bitches be wantin' my riches and they bitches, man, be jockin' my switches

Pullin' around my riches which is cool

Because I get ‘em, and then I hit ‘em

You see this what we do when we doin' what we do

She wants to get married but I ain’t and I cain’t

‘Cause I’m sprung on my muthafuckin' dank and some drank

I got a fat bank, huh, and still break hoes

And if your bitch gets to jockin', I will break yours

The Mac named Dre from the C-R-E-S-T

Ask about a nigga and they all would say ‘Yes, he’s the shizit'

I gizit, much pussy on my dizick

Never would I lizick or pay like a trizick

I’m like that, potna, I thought you heard

Fuckin' with your brain like some Thunderbird

I’m doper than a joint of that potent dank

And funky like the county jail holding tank

Romper, Room, crew for life

If I thrust ya once, hoe, I’mma thrust ya twice

What is I’m sayin' on this microphone

I get Romped out when my mic is on

I make the Statue of Liberty get freaky

Scoot her panties over, play with her pussy

Make her pay me to jook me

Playa playa, oh hell yeah, motive be to skeet her

Menage a trois, you, her and I, bubble while you G her, yeah

A Crew Thang nigga keepin' it real

Up against it with my protégés reachin' for mills

We puts the pussy-whip in ill fashion

And bend a corner hella squatted with that skrill flashin'

(What you squattin'?) A Mitsubishi, 2-triple-zero GT

VR 4, Nike shoe to the floor

If it’s not relatable to dollars I can’t holla

Tryna prosper, turnin' down nothin' but collars

That’s what we wantin', hutch, I strut with a limp

Through the party off Bacardi with the Shug’Wolf Pimp, ugh

PS to TS, Country Club Creezest

We just gon' tear the roof off this bitch

Now it’s the hog in your dog speakin' once more

Crestsidin' through the door, and pimp a hoe more

Than them hoes they be frozen, jockin' on a player

Hollerin' ‘Pimp ‘til I die, runnin' game like the mayor'

Extreme heavy hustler, stack a chip fiend

In the game of the big dogs, mutts and the fleas

But G’s like me, we pimp and don’t slack

Stack G’s for my neez, fetti fiend for the scratch

Bitch, I’m hustlin' hard

So now they wanna put the Mac down and bogard

But I won’t let ‘em, known to sweat ‘em for the green when I mack

‘Cause I hound dog hoes and sho' won’t slack

It’s SugaWolf Pimp in me

Nothin' but the muthafuckin' Mark Street G

Servin' this game like a thang of the ‘caine somethin' serious

Comin' like dick, mayne, flowin' like a period

1:40 in the morning, Brougham reekin' of the rope, see

All my cuddies high and so am I so peep game I be bold

These hoes is on some muthafuckin' alien shit

But me and Kill-a-Hoe won’t peel a hoe, push her off a cliff

Ripped off Hennessy, trick bitch, I’ll slap ya head off

And if your nigga move, Crestsiders gon' dump that lead off

Your man is a midget, he like to floss and trick bread off

But hoe I’m from the North and fa sho' you gotta get off

See I’m a third generation Mac

I like my hoes hella thick like the trunk on my Cadillac

But bitches on me like Prozac

Oh, you didn’t know that little hoe was sessed out like that?

Bitch, I thought you knew

Comin' straight from the Crest, this is what we do