My Homeboy’s Chevy

Lyrics

[Intro: Mac Dre] We out here on the streets man thowin' ribs down and shit Finna roll up this God's Gift to purple Can you get a good focus on that? (Read it read it) Pull up in something like that Go get yo weed from the store the legit way Quit thuggin' out Quit drivin' yo buckets to the turf and gettin' yo weed Drive something legit and buy yo weed from the store Like real bossy Verse 1 (Mac Dre) I'm on a block stacked up Got twamps of kill Burpin' out my 74 Bonneville No time to chill I'm on the grind for real What you want? What you need? Tryin' to find some pills? Well come holla at yo neighborhood thug supply Got everythang that a nigga love to buy It's me, M-D Skirtin' from the killer whales Black and whites is always on a nigga's tail But I'm hypo, nitro, keep the Chevy Vogue'n, floatin' From Sac to Oakland but the sack you smokin' Nobody does it better, Gangsta Mac, kill a nigga and the bitch I sweat her I gets my cheddar Ching ching and all that Put it in a Backwood Nigga roll that It's nothing playa A little game and muscle It's all it takes to get a gang a rustle [Chorus: Andre Nickatina] I sit low in my homeboy's Chevy My Makaveli hat pulled down by my eyes Yo baby peep the science of something that's an actual fact Yo you can't mix love with rap You better step back My K Swiss, like the step on the gas And if you knew how fast, you'd think I just might crash I think I saw the devil all up in my purple bag, and still I have to roll fat Can you believe that? [Verse 2: Andre Nickatina] Can I believe that? Did you retrieve that? The money in the bag Homie I'ma need that My Blackberry cellphone confuses me I got women talking about Nicki you using me I got Kool Gee Rap yo, in my speakers in the back My car shine like a new gat, I'm with the "Genie of the Lamp" Comin' off the exit ramp I grab cash like a calf cramp I like garlic butter with Alioto's crab My son had a fight I told him work the jab Sometimes I'm very stingy But yo I'm mostly greedy Been eatin' onion rings On Polk street, that's very greasy Man it's cracking like a flower seed Blowing off a gang of weed Next to the authority Picture four or more of me Racing through this shit like the Olympics Running red lights Never caring about a witness [Chorus: Andre Nickatina] I sit low in my homeboys Chevy, my Makaveli hat pulled down by my eyes Yo baby picture tryin to sell somethin that's an actual fact yo If you can't mix love with rap You better step back My K swiss, like the step on the gas And if you knew how fast, you think I just might crash I think I saw the devil all up in my purple bag, and still I have to roll phat Can you believe that?