Talk Big sh*t lyrics

by

Mac Dre


[Mac Dre]
Is it Sleep Dank?
Cutthoat Committee
Real sh*tty, nothing pretty
Is it Sleep Dank?

[Verse 1: Mac Dre]
I'm in a tight seven tre
Four fifty four, four door, mob shot Chevrolet
Got four fifteen, Lanzars
Hitting so damn hard that I'm setting off alarms
Got a fat backwood, car tacked out
Fat four four that'll blow a n*ggas back out
Squatted real low, dank wood killing me
AC chilling me, but yall ain't feeling me
A Cutthoat pimp, tripping and flashing
Dipping and dashing, I'm sick when I'm smashing
M-A-C, Dre b*tch
Pay b*tch if you really want to stay b*tch

[Verse 2: Dubee]
I bring fire, retire (?) wannabe killas
Can't f*ck with, now who you be, I be that n*gga
Steady ready to snatch it ticket wicked with a fashion
Tough as Tinactin, that bend tricks with a fastness
Dipping and dashing, four door Chevy smashing
Representing that raw sh*t, to your jaw sh*t
We be flawless, putting paper over all this
But yall just, n*ggas up in the way up on some garbage
That jargon, that make a n*gga empty every cartridge
Walking target, make you park it where you start it
I'm hocking a loogie, its Dubee, I'm telling you
PSD, Sleep and Dre and this n*gga bout revenue
[Chorus]
TALK BIG sh*t
Big sh*t talking n*ggas is off in the building
TALK BIG sh*t
Exo, cognac, privilege hennesey spilling, we living
TALK BIG sh*t
All on a hoe, yall ought to know
TALK BIG sh*t
At the mall or the store, your broad spending doe

[Verse 3: PSD]
See basically hoe, we hyper spaced out
Play for the doe but stop hating me hoe
Squat up on a one tre zero zero Honda model
No helmet on riding one time
Shining and glistening, hoes eyeing and listening
Judge dying and sentencing, girls smile when they mentioning
Two hundred dollars worth of smell (?) they slipping him
Quarters zippers on my (?) if its twelve I'm hitting him
Long or (?) green weed stall my lids and a Cutthoat is all I'm is
Me and my n*ggas hollering what hoe, we all on a b*tch
Suck a di*k if you can't f*ck hoe, swallow the kids

[Verse 4: Sleep Dank]
Check the formats, lay suckas down like floor mats
Those who approach get pulled like stagecoaches, we floor cats
Turned up with no blood lets make it official
These squares play the front
We in the back highly sparked off scud missiles
Sip on fosters slowly, hoes drop they panties just to know me
And show me, when the five hundred post, b*tches kick it like shinobi
Plenty f*ck trophies; I rock a b*tch like a rollie
Give her two dubs n*gga tell her bring me back 40
Sc*m of the slum, call the b*tch names
Separate the busters from the thugs, floss it in there face
But would I paper chase, these n*ggas grab the nickel plate
And X the faith, on any sorry b*tch who want to play
[Chorus]
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