name of lucky Wanna stand up player grew inches from a pimp I'm a young mac with out the gators ain't no rescue Windin or captain savor I'm with my nigga rags
like ross that ain't ay boss up in here Mr.Rags Tiny Loco that a boss up in here get it clear I got to go for Mine I ain't afraid fear Mr.Rags ayyayay
Getting that money was what Is what about then I met you and had a few doubts Have you been around the map have your dreams came Have you ever made love
Now a good friend of mine Sat with me and he cried He told me a story I know he ain't lying Said he went for a job And Mr. Man said Without an education
get us saved Like it take a lot more than do-rags to get your waves Nothin' sad as that day, my girl father passed away So I promise to Mr. Rainey, "
down The flow will break you down Bet the flow will break you down What to do? Timbuck-one, Timbuck-two I can't see a t'ing like Mr. Magoo The sniveling
a vest, okay I rep the town harder than any of you niggaz Wherever I stand my bills the same punk And you got the nerve to tell me Come gangsta, throw your rags
misdemeanors Laugh now dick sucker cry later That AK 45 keep me live That's my motherfucking regulator [Verse 2 (Abel)] That's my brother Mr. Kane Mr
love this When my niggaz and bitches go from rags to riches It'll be thug life and y'all still with me When my niggaz and bitches go from rags to riches
virgins to nymphos, look what 'cha in fo' A G that's gonna let his khakis sag Mr. Mike and Ice Cube, french braids and rags, byatch How many wicked wayz
nigga Slip Capone Ha ha ha ha, hell yeah, lot of fakers is out there Niggaz get around these backwoods Get around they mommas, pull up they pants Hide they rags
with his bulging eyes I give my all for his cherished prize Oh why, oh why? I, I Miss America crying on TV Silver clad in satin rags But everything'
and not sound like 'Green Day' Trade rags say you're making it Now you're old, you don't give a shit Subconsciously fullfilled prophecy You've become your own nemesis Mr
misdemeanors Laugh now dick sucker cry later That AK 45 keep me live That's my motherfucking regulator Verse 2 (Abel) That's my brother Mr. Kane Mr
on) [Maestro Fresh Wes] Yo make way Make a, make a, make a, make away Fresh Wes is going to breaka, breaka, break way From the rags to the riches I'm
on) [maestro fresh wes] Yo make way Make a, make a, make a, make away Fresh wes is going to breaka, breaka, break way From the rags to the riches I'm
, ship it down the line Leave the world in ruins, you know we've got the time Chorus Cop-outs look for motives....Freudian analyst Come on, Mr Horror,
Yeah, ride wit' me, come ride wit' Trice, man I brought my man wit' me, Curtis Interscope Jack Mr. Mathers, my nigga Fif', holla at 'em Everywhere I
