Lyrics EZ Come, EZ Go - M.C. Mack

Point me a tone right dead at ya dome fool
Point me a tone right dead at ya dome fool

Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool
Easy come, easy go, easily I shot you hoe
Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool
Easy come, easy go, easily I shot you hoe
Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool
Easy come, easy go, easily I shot you hoe
Point me a, point me a, point me a, point me a

A lotta niggas talk that shit and end up gettin' they wigs split
It's M.C Mack, a nigga known for smacking jack and crackerjacks
Busta ass nigga run yo mouth and get your ass blown off
Watch me put my ski mask on, cock my gat back trick now drop it off
Lames get buried quick and tricks that tried to test they nuts get stuffed and
Zipped up in a body bag to let you know yo ass been had
Flodgin' weak ass niggas looking, throwing up the wrong sign
I'm staring at them like they J-Ko, bitch you ain't no friend of mine
Shoot a stupid sucka in a minute don't you give a fuck about another nigga
If he's bigger you should cap his ass
Nigga like the Mac'll smack a nigga like a
Nigga smack a bitch you cluckas, stain them bustas
Smacking, crack a niggas dome with the handle of my chrome
So now you wishing you didn't run your licka nigga lane we popping
Gon' see once again I got to show these lemons who they dealing with
Don't play me weak or soft 'cause all my niggas keep a fucking yalk
Classify this lemon pillars, let's make a stain, shoot that thang
Like Crunchy said you stupid hoes, "EZ come and EZ go," bitch

Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool
Easy come, easy go, easily I shot you hoe
Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool
Easy come, easy go, easily I shot you hoe
Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool
Easy come, easy go, easily I shot you hoe
Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool
Easy come, easy go, easily I shot you hoe
Point me a, point me a, point me a, point me a

I'm hangin' in North Memphis with my niggas that be snortin' that P
Got a MAC-10 on the side of my hip, for a [?] lemon lame side, bust a runnin' lip
Smoked out on that ganja weed while sittin' back sippin' on Hennessey
I'm higher than three birds and a kite I'm thinkin', blinkin', also creepin'
I grab my yalk and load that bitch and see what snitch gon' start some shit
Jump like you got ana, close yo' eyes while the [?] make a wish
Got Teflon in yo lungs and now you gaspin' for yo' last breath
Young nigga tryna out run some hollow tips, well trick, you done took yo' last step
See busta niggas run they mouth but eventually
Get they cranium cracked
By M.C. Mack, we rob and stain and stick 'em up, hoe what you got?
My nine don't have no feelings as I'm dishin' out those hollow thangs
Triple 6, Gimisum Family, Killa Klan and snitches cannot manage
Scopin', poppin', droppin', busta trick, we rob you for yo' weed
And blew the smoke off in yo face, now bitch, you shouldn't have shit to say
Run your pussy licker nigga, Mack will always keep a tone
For a sucka, clucka, busta, motherfucka: chrome thing to yo' dome

Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool
Easy, come, easy go, easily I shot you hoe
Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool
Easy come, easy go, easily I shot you hoe
Point me a tone, right dead at ya dome fool

Point me a tone right dead at ya dome fool
Point me a, point me a, point me a, point me a