I'm a Crestland madman,
country club psycho
With a soul rifle and a hatred for the 5 -0
Their early death is normal,
so we smoke pericomo
Make the minutes move in slo -mo
Wild out for now,
cause when it end we really don't know
Youngstas have King Kong on they
back before they grow old
And in my turf the streets so cold
Put this on the shopper that I hold
Fuck with my Kent folks
and we be taggin' Yolk Toad
Man, it's a rough life
I tuck gun, tuck knife
I bust back, bust once, bust twice
This 40 thing?
I tear off your bumper, it's my only gang
I call my thumper
Nigga, I jump ya, all by myself
With no help, if you die, oh well
No love felt
People, I'm a menace,
it's Mackesy on the mic,
we playin' tennis
C -U -T -T -H -O -A -T
Squares disappear when
Cuddy's holler
Breezy's gon' scream,
paramedics clean the scene,
slay the lambs with SKs and they all 15s
C -U -T -T -H -O -A -T,
squares disappear when
Cudi's holler
Breezy's gon' scream,
paramedics clean the scene,
slay the lambs with SKs and they
all want fiends
I'm in the club VIP, with me theme,
feelin' the DJ rhythm rock swing
I'm searchin', lookin' for a guinea pig,
splat any wig
Strap with the mini -cig on Remy
Big, high -tech cyber Dre
McGyver, getaway driver
Always tighter than a po -po or the Feds
I'm ridin' some hypo with ported heads
Your boy with dreads,
I take the guys on one
Frozen goods? Why?
I'm gon' run, dumb outlaw
On a crooked path, tryna look at cash
Look at wood on the dash,
look at screens
Listen to the satellites, big appetite
Nigga ain't act in' right
I'm ill, so will you, smell it
Mack and roll, tell them how to spell it
C -U -T -T -H -O -A -T
Squares disappear when
Cuddy's holler
Breezy's gon' scream,
paramedics clean the scene
Slay the lames with us
K's and they all 15's
C -U -T -T -H -O -A -T
Squares disappear when
Cuddy's holler
Breezy's gon' scream,
paramedics clean the scene
Slay the lames with us
K's and they all 1 feet
Now n***a bounce,
break out, run or ride
Scatter when you see my scowl
Followed by that footy,
can't put her from my scowl
Since her people grow,
we did Fugazi's foul
All this n***a testin' line,
we gots to back me now
3C beats, your ball, a beat town
And all my n****s make
these bitches run like great hounds
We have no funk, guerrilla warfare style
Move on to you without a sound
and all of a sudden, crack your crown
Doctors say smokin' poison
make you see now
Especially in them backwoods,
but fuckin' plays the pound
And then I mention,
we do the Rodney King
Rage in Odenton
Turn your little function
to a stump out convention
Stump out convention
Stump out convention
Stump out con vention
Stump out convention
You