Mother Fuckin’ Thugs

(Verse 1: Drunk D)
Woke up early in the morning, breath funky
Fuck the closeup, I’ll grab the fuckin’ brass monkey
Slap my bitch on the ass so she can feel it
And tell her to put some eggs in the goddamn skillet
Call Willy and Earl at the motherfuckin crack house
All I wanna hear is good shit, I’m the boss
If Willy, Earl, tell me that they had bad luck
Well they ass better try and get the fuck up
Cause I kill every one of them suckas
Then recruit me some new motherfuckas
All the shit about a motherfucka trickin’
Fuck wit my money, there’ll be a lot of ass kickin’
How can a nigga like a fiend that’s sick?
Knowing that the bitch suck a glass dick
Nigga better try to take care of his business
Cause if he dies, there won’t be a fuckin witness, nigga
I’m a motherfuckin thug and I’m slaying
So a nigga better do shit, or get caught in a plan
All this slippin’ up, fuckin up, losing the dope
His neck bout to meet the fuckin rope
I got my back against the motherfuckin wall
Lookin at my boys standing six feet tall
The shortest motherfucka in the pack
But I got the brain to make a twenty feet stack
If any one of them niggas even budge
Imma put a slug to his mug, it ain’t nothing but the thug
In my motherfuckin fucked up system
When a hoe hits the floor, I ain’t gonna miss him
Just sweep the nigga up like trash
Then prepare for the next nigga’s ass

(Verse 2: Big Mello)
I’m a motherfuckin thug and I be amping on that fry
And I’ll be that type of motherfucka till I die
But there’s no stopping the jackin while I’m in the progress
Now I’m about to buss a bitch dead in the chest
Okay, the white folks be sweatin’ me
Cause I’m very deadly, they scared of me
If they wanted water, you can’t even pour it on me
They still in fear when it time to build up my bankroll
The Mello still on eighty fo
Huh, I catch a bitch by the neck and try to break it
Give me the bank, you dirty bitch, imma take it
Huh, me and the motherfuckin Drunk be envy
Hot shot, it’s the Ghetto MC and we’ll
Ready to blast, as we get away
Any punk motherfucka, that gets in the way
Boy, None and Bad News will bust that ass, bitch
A low down tender brother with the pistol grip
Now, Mello is the nigga doing damage to the dome
You rather run through Hell with gasoline drawers on
Huh than to fuck wit the Mello, now get out my mud
Huh, I’ll forever be a thug

(Verse 3: Ghetto MC)
The way we kill motherfuckas in the Nickel, fool
We don’t drive-by, we ride-by, blasting from a bicycle
Laws on my ass for the shit I did
I ??? my word for losing the youngest grandkids
But that shit won’t happen, I’m too street smart
The cold blood of a thug is pumping through my fuckin heart
The other day, I robbed the liquor store
This shit got out of hand, so I had to cap a hoe
But that ain’t shit, Ghetto, do what I gotta do
Before I left, I had to grab me a brew
Reach in the freezer to grab the 4-0
That’s when I spotted a punk peeking through the front door
He tried to run, I shot him in the leg
Now like a bitch on his hands and knees, he begged
“Please don’t kill me! I’m a innocent bystander!”
“Bitch shut the fuck up, with that propaganda!”
Place a slug in his head, took a swig of my beer
Collected my cash, a nigga’s outta here
Headed straight to Brewster Park, so I can pump some drugs
The average day in the life of a motherfuckin thug

(Verse 4: Bar-None)
I got a pocket full of dope tryna make some cash
Gonna start about now, so I can sell out fast
I watch my own back, cause I’m always strapped
If a dope fiend try to rob me (Bar-None, bust a cap!)
I don’t need a Cadillac to show that I’m banking hard
Got money in my pocket (Fuck a credit card!)
Some punks with them Lacs think they so damn hype
I can chill and make thousands on a goddamn bike
Not tryna put them down cause their Lacs are clean
Fuck four wheels, I roll on two and still make the green
Yeah, I’m the kingpin in the world of drugs
And you wanna know why? Cause I’m a motherfuckin thug

(Man talking down on Too Much Trouble)
Y’all hook ass niggas think y’all hard and shit. Been around snatching purses and robbin motherfuckas. Y’all ain’t about shit, ain’t never going be shit, and ain’t gonna do shit. And why the fuck they call y’all Too Much Trouble anyway?
(Gunshots, man groaning)

(Drunk D)
Yo, Ghetto, piss on his dead ass

(Pants unzip, urinating on the dead body)