Cuddies Say “Yee”

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Mac Mall] I'm a Crestland, mad man, Country Club psycho With assault rifle and hatred for the 5-O Early death is normal, so we smoke Perry Como Make the minutes move slo-mo Wil' 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 this chopper that I hold Fuck with my kinfolks and we'll be taggin' your toe [Verse 2: Mac Dre] Man, this a rough life, I tuck gun, tuck knife I bust back, bust once, bust twice This .40 thang, will tear off your bumper It's my only gang, I call my thumper Nigga, I'll jump ya, all by myself With no help, if you die, oh well No love felt, people, I'm a menace It's Macassi on the mic, we playin' tennis [Chorus: Mac Mall] C-U-T-T-H-O-A-T Squares disappear when cuddies holla "Yee!" Breezies gon' scream, paramedics clean the scene Slay the lames with SK's and AR-15's C-U-T-T-H-O-A-T Squares disappear when cuddies holla "Yee!" Breezies gon' scream, paramedics clean the scene Slay the lames with SK's and AR-1-Feens [Verse 3: Mac Dre] I'm in the club VIP, with me thing Feelin' the DJ rhythm rock swing I'm searching, looking for a guinea pig Splat any wig, strapped with the mini Sig On Remy big, high-tech cyber Dre MacGyver, getaway driver Always tighter than the po-po or the feds I'm ridin' something hi-po with ported heads Your boy with dreads will take the guys on one Frozen goods? Boy, 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 actin' right I'm ill, so real you smell it MacEnroe, tell 'em how to spell it [Chorus: Mac Mall] C-U-T-T-H-O-A-T Squares disappear when cuddies holla "Yee!" Breezies gon' scream, paramedics clean the scene Slay the lames with SK's and AR-15's C-U-T-T-H-O-A-T Squares disappear when cuddies holla "Yee!" Breezies gon' scream, paramedics clean the scene Slay the lames with SK's and AR-1-Feens [Verse 4: Mac Mall] Now, nigga, bounce, break out Run a route, scatter when you see my scowl Followed by the fully K imported from Moscow Since a creeper crawled, we did fugazis foul Hardest nigga test the line, he gots to blast me now Three C beast, North Pole of V-Town And all my niggas make these bitches run like greyhounds We handle funk guerilla warfare style Move on you without a sound and all of a sudden, crack your crown Doctors say smoking poison make you senile Especially in them Backwoods, but fuck it, blaze the pound And did I mention, we do the Rodney King, Reginald Denny Turn your little function to a stomp out convention