MANDEM

Lyrics for MANDEM

Yeah, yeah It's the motherfuckin' doctor Doctor Bak, doctor Baklava You already know it's me (of course) Uh (uh) There's no way out (nope), you took the payout (nope) Black Ferraris doin' burnouts in front of Bernabéu (skrrt, skrrt) Uh, with the grenade in my mouth (ah), I'ma show you how it shakes out Send the chopper real slow on the way down (send 'em now) A suitcase full of money so I can paint the town (uh-huh) Hammerhead, two hundred and 80 pounds (uh) Bitch, I don't drive no motherfuckin' Mercedes around (hell no) Know I'm in the Cherokee (uh-huh), blastin' Haitian music, baby, hate me now Double-headed blood, American muscle (uh) I'm at every single Knick game off the mushrooms (uh-huh) Baklava like Pete Rose when I'm slidin' through customs (uh) Dollar van drop me off at Sufton (right there) From off the overpass, right through your window, here's a pumpkin (ah) Black and silver Nike high-top, Tim Duncans (ah) They found your pop's finger in the box next to the munchkins (ah) My black magic leave your head shrunken (uh) Uh, poison 40 gang members with empanadas (yes) With product from the super market costin' just 11 dollars (cheap motherfucker) My left foot like James (James) You know I'm in the Porsche, makin' cuts like Barry from the Lions (uh-huh, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt) I spar with champions (uh), each scampy need a pantheon (for real) Shorty say that I'm handsome (yes, I am), bitch, I'm just mandem (yes, I am) Man, peta bread, lamb neck (all that) The 20-third century Hamlet (all that) Bitch, I'm mandem (mandem) Foliage in Sedona, now the trees match the mountains Travel around the globe, takin' pictures next to fountains Drop a couple racks and pick a number, then we bouncin' Never the type to freeload, was kilo, quarter, and ouncin' Quiet about endeavors, but this jewelry box announcin' Flyin' and rockin' leathers that the master's mispronouncin' Been lit for so long, the light bill is seven digits Sneakerhead until I'm dead, but stick my foot in different lizards Caviar textures for breakfast, we ain't eatin' chicken gizzards Changed the tires on my Lexus, now this shit's equipped for blizzards We swam the seven seas, rice and peas, Lebanese Ten degrees hotter than these other niggas, we from Queens You can't go where we go, it's hurtin' your ego Now these niggas bitter like radicchio misto I talk cash, speak bucks, never in a cheap tux Often in the back of her throat like acid reflux Been fly since the era you could smoke on a plane Every link brolic, you can sniff coke on my chain You have now entered Planet Frog