Many Styles - Mac Dre

Why won’t she? Why won’t she?

One day she gon' see she got me lonely

Those are words you’ll never hear from us

You didn’t know it’s pimpin' over here with us?

Oh, what a hit we made, never givin' a bitch a break

Sippin' on them vintage grapes, police we quick to shake

Pedal to the metal, never hit the brakes

Smokin' hella weed, no sticks or shakes

Smoke with hella niggas, I instigate

Dumpin' on niggas, I hit and skate

Fans, they picture-take, yo man’s thy pimpatrate

I’ma take all the mony the ho make

She gon' keep it comin', man, and don’t wait

I don’t fake, I don’t hate when I put my voice on tape

Everybody go so stupid dumb

Everybody say, «Man, here he come»

Like 1−5-1 Bacardi Rum, Dre gon' get the party dumb

Always got bomb for the lung

And when the police come, man, I run

Yoking something, dosing something

Smoking something, Syko make them hoes sing