The Conduct lyrics

by

Bishop Lamont


[Intro: Mack 10] (Quik)
Ay Quik! (Wassup?)
Turn me up a lil' bit (Ah, fa' sho)
Westsiiiiide~! Man, One-Oh (Mack!)
How long they been waitin on this one?
(sh*t, since the seventies) Haha!

{Act like you got some class, and stop showing yo' ass
Sho' nuff, sho' nuff, sho' nuff, baby mama mama mama}

[Verse 1: Mack 10]
Yeah, you can catch me in the drop top 'Rari that's the meanest
And then hit the block on some powder-coated zeniths
Pocket full of money and a snub-nose toast
And I can't help it that I'm so West Coast
Can't explain mine, in shape for game time
Showed you how to shine and soo-woop at the same time
With a D-boy demeanor and a coke flow
And it's C.O.D. when the coke go (gone)
And you squares amuse me that, give it your best then fall
And who need a group because, I possess it all
And y'all love my wits, pull up and impress 'em all
A hall of famer Blood, I'm one of the best to ball
(Aw~!) And err'ytime they count Mack out the picture
I grab my nuts, flip them haters off and get richer
Smashin up the boulevard in a red two-seater
Chicken Hawk, DJ Quik, and the sh*t off the meter - burnin up
[Chorus: DJ Quik]
That's how it's done, that's how it is
n*ggas lights camera action, this is showbiz
And Hollywood's too big a place to be dreamin
If you've had your dream shot down to the ground, you know the meanin
Now that's the conduct, that's what we all about
I had to learn to cut, you better call 'em out
And bring 'em right down to the floor
So we can give the motherf*cker what he came here for

[Interlude: vocoder voice]
Sho' nuff, I said, it's too much ratchet sh*t goin on around
Yeah yeah, baby... Ladies, ladies, ladies, ladies, ladies
Act like you got some class, and stop showing yo' ass
Sho' nuff, sho' nuff, sho' nuff, baby mama mama mama

[Verse 2: DJ Quik]
That's Mack 10 (OH!), he's my constituent up in this sh*t
Compton to Inglewood, I think we need another clip
It's goin down like the helium's missing
Analog, that's the way I listen, I'm Louie V hoodie
Mobb Deep, but I ain't Goodie (oh!)
I got a plot to get the dough, 12 GA dot double lot
Hit the flow slow, stick up or kick up daisies
It's all go, rhymin' and stealin'
Grimy killin', 21st century chillin'
They quick to try to ask Quik how I'm feelin'—I'm still a villain
In Hollywood tryna make my millions
The molly's good, got me stuck to the ceiling—I'm floatin' high
And I don't research nothing, n*gga—I review it
I seen it all twice, I know how to do it
I'm movin' that double the speed of light
Third passport, poppin' Ambien on international flights
[Chorus: DJ Quik]
That's how it's done, that's how it is
n*ggas lights camera action, this is showbiz
And Hollywood's too big a place to be dreamin
If you've had your dream shot down to the ground, you know the meanin
Now that's the conduct, that's what we all about
I had to learn to cut, you better call 'em out
And bring 'em right down to the floor
So we can give the motherf*cker what he came here for

[Verse 3: DJ Quik]
I like legal tender, that's both of them
Money AND women, you know my gender—now send her
I'm like Em, got a grip on my balls
Middle finger to the world screamin'
(f*ck ALL YOU HATEFUL MOTHERf*ckERS!)
I smoke weed then I spray the Febreeze
Mix it all up like some fondue cheese
I'm FLY - and this should let you know how
I never wash my ass and my face with the same towel
Got n*ggas in my hood that can't even buy gold
But swearin' up and down that they ballin' out of control
You n*ggas is fakin' (oh!), actin like they got cocaine bakin'
With a f*ckin' day job at the train station
And they gotta reapply every year for that job
GET THE f*ck off my knob, n*gga!
Because all you do is lie, I got a political prize
And every b*tch that I f*ck with got big thighs
WHAT?? Huh... huh... f*ck off!
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net