paroles de chanson I'm a Thug - Mac Dre
Yeah
yeah
This
is
a
money-motivated
song,
man,
right?
If
you're
allergic
to
paper
You
might
not
fit
in
when
niggaz
gon'
have
do
a
caper,
man
Yeah
We
ain't
allergic
to
paper,
man
So
we
gon'
try
to
turn
you
niggaz
around,
man
Yamean?
Yeah
We
gon'
try
to
motivate
y'all
to
get
your
money
Cause
we
money-motivators
[Verse
1:
Dubee]
The
way
I
steer
up
out
this
here
bitch,
so
detrimental
how
a
PS
real
click
with
that
double
r
(?)
partner
530,
I'm
dirty,
hate
to
say
it
Represent
turf
tight
and
tight
with
major
players
With
mo'
seasoning,
suckers
be
sneakin
in
the
circle
Urkle
niggaz
soakin
every
line,
still
ain't
with
the
verbals
Get
to
hoppin
hurdles
like
Jesse
Owens
in
the
fast
Return-type
tactics
so
quick
shakin
that
past
In
they
entourage
bitches
be
hazy
like
the
samurais
Get
the
mullah,
stay
savage
and
suave
Now
is
that
savage?
Well
certainly
Still
I
keep
it
global
Multiple
skyscraper
paper,
unknown
total
Who
we?
Who
that
be?
Dubee,
ask
your
peoples
I
leave
Sasqwatch
footprints
and
keep
it
off
the
heezo
Cizzo
please,
it
ain't
no
need
in
hawkin
Ain't
no
please
believe,
I
breathe
(?)
back
- yamean?
[Chorus]
The
way
I
feel
about
loot
Ooh,
it
ain't
no
doubt
about
it
I'm
a
thug
[Verse
2:
PSD]
Say
how
you
do,
sir?
Well,
everything
is
everything,
how
'bout
you,
brah?
Man,
I'm
tryin
to
get
my
paws
on
some
loot,
sir
If
it
ain't
scratch
it
ain't
shit,
how
'bout
you,
sir?
Yeah
that's
the
truth,
brah
Say
I'm
a
natural,
call
me
7-11
Playboy,
it's
factual,
I
stay
high
as
the
heaven
I'm
like
the
castle
On
the
chess
boards
slide
front
to
backwards
Up
and
down,
side
to
side,
boy,
we
at
this
Me,
Dre
and
Dubee
savages
in
the
masses
They
call
my
type
of
people
roguish-ass
bastards
I
pull
a
babe
in
and
tell
her
flip
the
matress
And
get
the
cash
quick
Now
player
listen,
this
ain't
no
test
of
your
broadcast
system
Them
niggaz
PSD
and
them
be
comin
with
em
It
ain't
no
puzzle
how
I
feel
about
my
scrillas
Gotta
feed
my
chil'ens
[Chorus]
[Verse
3:
Mac
Dre]
At
the
building,
chilling,
living
anxious
Waitin
for
this
bitch
to
deliver
some
papers
The
same
routine
every
day
Get
hit
then
I
split
the
Chevrolet
The
4 15's
shake
the
mirror
When
the
EB's
quake
couldn't
sound
no
clearer
Feelin
so
cool
in
my
old
school
Ain't
trippin
off
a
bitch,
I
need
some
mo'
loot
Oh,
you
ain't
know
you
better
check
my
file
I
get
stupid
doo-doo
dumb,
don't
sweat
the
style
Me
and
my
niggaz
represent
the
real
Don't
think
we
kill?
Bet
a
100
dollar
bill
I'ma
leave
a
body,
no
leads
or
clues
Clepto
committee,
bitch,
we
some
fools
Killas
for
the
scrilla,
sucker,
can't
you
tell?
The
real
motherfuckers
representin
Vallejo
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