Mayhem Music by Cassidy (Ft. AR-AB & JAG)
Mayhem Music by Cassidy (Ft. AR-AB & JAG)

Mayhem Music

Cassidy & JAG & AR-AB * Track #7 On Mayhem Music: Apply Pressure 3

Mayhem Music Lyrics

[Verse 1: Chubby Jag]
Look, on my mama he a beast, he chilling
Heard he in the streets, he dealing, flip more, reek the villain
Bake chief, I be smoking in my tepee chilling
My little goon just caught a body, but at least he killing
For show the nine'll spark bullets rip your spine apart
Ice got me drowning, niggas clowinin', watch us climb the charts
Oh yea, I grind with sharks. I was with 'em last night
Come to fiends, I'm the one they come to with the glass pipes
Stackin' on my stacks, just so I can get my cash right
While with the coca, runnin' miles on my mass pipe
But I don't double them, I don't got a Maybach
Soon as niggas spend I'm thinkin', what niggas could make back
Hit a poppy, I sent him 2, he send me 8 back
Gorilla, where my apes at, I'm Rocky nigga, A$AP
Niggas is joking, somebody told me makes back
Well, tell me where the cake at, the jewels and the safe at
The train, A clap, I'm riding with vets that don't slit
Now you talking out the side of your neck, blaw
My whole team bucking, I come for the cream Cousin
We see you faking, I see you straight like I'm mean mugging
Yea, I'll be busting in my sleep like I'm dream fucking
The smoke coming out the barrel like a steam oven
I'll be whipping the pie hard, the stiff in the rod
That's why my trips to the night, yea, I be shippin' the blocks
I'm mad happy, I'm filled with punches, I'm jab happy
Couldn't cut it in school, but now I'm stab happy
And now I've got the bad bitches getting mad at me
Everything cost, gotta pay me just to grab at me
Got to the bank, and the teller throwin' bags at me
Car lot, got the car, dealer throwin' Jags at me
We on that new shit, Rainman in the booth shit
Work in the trunk (??), we too thick
I'm riding like bad tires, been working, I'm mad tired
Jag fired, got the Family Guy on, it's Quagmire
Nigga I'm scorching, I'm past fire, lava land
I come from South Central, the home of a lot of Champs
I got a camp that I roam with, and you got us amped
My name been up in the streets, like I got a stamp
I'm too hot, with the blue rocks in my diamond bag
We buzzing like hornets, I'm balling out in my Cayman back

[Verse 2: Cassidy]
Yea, I'm getting the best haze from some Ese's
Front my niggas work and they grinding' till all their debts paid
Believe me, it could get greasy like fresh waves
Run up on you, pull a gun up on you, long as my left leg
Y'all folk would get your jaw broke, or your chest cage
I use the Gillette blade, to cut you like a fresh fade
I'm always on my job, I never get no rest days
I'm sittin' on the yolk, like a fresh laid, Nestle
I just cop the watch with the guap that I've just made
The rock see through, like my watch got X-Ray
And I'm a sex slave for punto de cuenta
Kentai, I'm straight like 6 o'clock, but you've been gay
I don't know how them other men play, I've gotta get guap
So I'll be choping them blocks, like I'm a sensei
Comprender, my clientele order quarters
I could make that white bitch swim in some boiling water
And I've got your chick open like a C-section
Giving me neck, and she don't have no gag reflex
You'll be tricking 'em bitches, I'm having free sex
My homies like, we next, every night a freak fest
She a freak with some double D breasts
I'm fly as a Pterodactyl, she eat the meat like a T-Rex
Fuck the BS, I'm moving that Ryan Seacrest
Grinding, shining like a diamond, VVS
Yes, I'm on the strip to the packet bong
Lookin' for a nigga I could empty out the ratchet on
I clap the drone on the same strip that I'm trapping on
Big kids get led in the same head, they hat is on
I got a lot of diamonds, and a lot of platinum on
Cause I rap, and I made this track that I'm rapping on
These rap cats I be snackin' on, fuck it
I'm cold blooded, in the summer time I need a jacket on
Cats is drawn, I'd better get Lucy Liu
I'm wearing (??), a Gucci belt, and some Gucci shoes
I left this groupie with her coochie bruise
And a red ass, cause her head trash, but coochie cool
Kiss my back side, I just bought a coupe and made the
Back seat give the roof a piggy back ride
And the pink change colors like a kitty cat eye
That's crack nigga, cause I'm the shit like cat litter
It's a rap nigga

[Verse 3: AR-AB] (VERSE NEEDS PROOF READING AND EDITTING STILL)
They say money make the world spin
I'm at the Louis store, spendin' like a whirlwind
And picture AR cryin' 'bout a girlfriend
I'd rather get the pyrex and drop your end
I get straight to the pussy, no foreplay
I was sittin' in jail for a short stay
And let that nigga show up on court day
I'm a show him a moon in broad day
AK street sweep, no duff pan
Cut grams, play the corners like a cut man
I left school, used to hang in the hookie house
I dropped all N word and pulled the cookie house
Big money, gotta count for 3 days
White girl, I make you drop like D Wade
Perk Lee, Sour D, you're the pea haze
I had your girl tell me I've got 3 legs
I be with goons that take lives
10 stacks to the ground when I shake dice
Bad bitch in the car, that's straight dike
Fat ass with jaw like a great white
Night horror, move it all on the late night
20 large in my drawer but I could take flight
I'm in LA, I'm a Road Runner
So fuck lap, I'm getting burned for the lil numbers
I'm a rich taker, I get big paper
I've got a Mag 32 for my brick playaz
Or EA's just a set and I'm the dictator
20 grand is a bet and that's shit paper
I took a brown paper bag to the car lot
Drove off, red Jag and his hard top
I carry big guns thata make a car stop
Give my young'un 9 soft and get a mall shot
I used to walk around with holes in my sneaks
Now my block move night hoes in my sleep
Rolled from the streets and live in the line of fire
Pull up, bang on 'em, Stoudemire
I got nigga thata bring it to your mom homes
Hidin' in the bush, 30 shot, 9 off
So what your life like? I showed you what mine about
Sellin' weed, rock bricks, I took 9 out
I get guap, I was raised on a drug block
I'm a goon, I keep a mass in the glove box
We was poor, we didn't get to eat our grub hot
Now I'm at the car lot with a drugnot

Mayhem Music Q&A

Who wrote Mayhem Music's ?

Mayhem Music was written by AR-AB & JAG & Butter Beats & Cassidy.

Who produced Mayhem Music's ?

Mayhem Music was produced by Butter Beats & Cassidy.

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