Powda Puff

(Intro)

All you mark a** tricks i never seen befo'

I been on the scene for years, y'all be saying

This ni** is hard

That ni** is hard

This ni**, the fvvvck

This trick ni** a traitor

B*tch a** mother fvcker

C motherfvcking Mac ni**

(Verse 1)

Nowadays every Puff- ni** and his Momma got a story

So every ni** out straight ball**'

I used to shoot this and i used to blast that

You probably made 3 albums before you scene a strap, ya mark

Lived your whole childhood straight on the run

Never wore a pair of khakis till ya turned twenty one

But now you on your album cover sagging in fact

You got your mean face on posing with ya strap

Talking bout the county but you never been there

Said you was looting like a ball but you straight square

Now how the fvck do a square ball bounce?

You couldn't tell a bird from an ounce, punk

Most of you marks never had no ho3s

Till you start making videos, in some hustlers clothes

But it don't mean nothing

When you can't sail through your hood cause you straight fronting

C motherfvcking Mac, if you don't know me

B*tch, i bet your money that your big homies know me

Nvts hang when i gets paid

I was doing jewelry store licks, when you was in the 6th grade

(Hook x2)

I can't stand no powda puff

Get his a** on the stage and then he`s straight tough

But put him on the streets and he`s a biiiitch

Powda puff, ya powda puff

(Verse 2)

I hate to bust your bubble Mr. Boss Player (pop)

But you nothin but a puff with the fruit layer

I heard you're shooting rhymes like an uzi

So why the fvck the ni** out your hood call ya suzie?

ni**, I got b*tches on my d*ck with the feds looking for me

Robbing so much sh*t, they put the task force on me

Causing mo' static than a shirt

Fvck knocking boots, I send a bird to Albuquerque

Beeper overloading so I put the sky on it

1-800 come get ya grip

Cause imma do the reals when the chips get low

Fvck running back to mommas house, when you get short

You motherfvcking mommas boy, with a deal

Cuss all you want punk, you still ain't the real

In 94' you rolling in a '4 on Daytons

In 84' you purple rain and just impersonating

How long has it been since you wore your one glove?

Singing Billy Jean, and I'm supposed to show ya love (Shiiiit)

Run up on a mac how figure?

There ain't nothing worse than a b*tch made ni**

(hook x2)

(Verse 3)

Four or five cowards and you swear you got a crew

Whole crew running if a ni** say boo (boo!)

Cause you know, who the real and who the fvck the ho3 is

And now the khakis and locs on its all for the showbiz (yeaah!)

That's why I never see you on the Shore

And never heard about you having run ins with the law

ni**, how you figure you can come speak on a pimp state

Gradually with ya paper with the P on

Bookie number 5478 hook

The only rap sh*t you gots in your note book

I'm turning more corners than a ferris wheel

You wanna roll shot bring your fear, its real

Stuck down ni** on the left and on the right of me

But you ain't nothing but a punk don't even lie to me

Last time I seen you, I saw you with your crew

Don't know the scratch and watch your a**, don't know what the fvck to do

In the middle of the centro

I been stuck down since i drove a pento so

Run up on a mac, how figure?

There ain't nothing worse than a b*tch made ni**

(Hook x2)

(Outro)

This shit goes to 95% of you b*tch a** ni**!

So analyse and divide this sh*t equally amongst yourselves

And if the shoe fits, wear it motherfvcker!

You know who the fvck i'm talking to trick

Can't give no shout outs to no rap ni**, fvck all y'all!

Ain't nobody never did shit for me ni**!

So G's up and punk trick a** ni** down, mark motherfvckers!