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m child - gon' madd lyrics

[m-child] [chorus x2]

-ssociating with bullsh-t, got me gon’ madd.
-ssociating with stupid hoes, got me gon’ madd.
you f-ck with your boy, somebody throw me some caps,
somebody like anything before i kick somebody’s -ss.

[m-child]

i need green, like don king, need a haircut,
so i got with the ‘kaze ’cause they be hooking sh-t up.
we h-llified music, i got the vocals to do it,
since a n-gg- got capped, a n-gg- kinda got used to it.
up there on the mic, got you hyped; rocking your head.
making so much noise, a n-gg- wake up the dead.
keep an eye on you n-gg-s that want a loaf of my bread,
pop on the infrared, pop it back and fill you with lead.
n-gg-, you can test my nuts, ’cause they thought i was fake,
now they (mad?) ’cause if they got some go-go-gadget roller skates.
but me, you can’t escape, ’cause now i’m in your radio,
better take me out, press pause, or fast-forward, hoe.
i’ve gon’ madd, madd enough to buy you some plast’,
call the school; bomb threat, got my n-gg-s outta cl-ss.
i want it all, so i hussle try not to fall,
you try to take it or make it, your whole world pause.

[chorus x2]

[m-child]

and to you n-gg-s in the rap game, sh-t we gon’ start,
f-ck around and how you hoes doin’ shows as we got,
i feel ridiculous; clocked my gift from st. nicholas,
hard-core lyricist, rough is how i’m bringin’ it.
kamikaze thuggin’ it, n-gg-s they be jockin’ it,
fall up in the club, groupie hoes, they be lovin’ it.
heat on my hip incase a n-gg- get cold,
i’ma leave the hoe froze, plucked out with bullet hoes.
money-maker, mark my word, m-child, the top dog;
test nuts if a n-gg- jump like a f-cking frog.
you better make way, give me room before i stray,
bombs tied around my chest, blow this b-tch to outer sp-ce.
i ain’t playing with you, and i ain’t f-cking with your needle.
them mound n-gg-s crazy, we chiefin’ the reefer.
my n-gg-s cappin’ the geef, big bush, knockin’ out teeth,
eliminate beef, i think they gone and they deep.

[chorus x2]

[m-child]

now don’t let me get deep, and rap until you fall asleep,
smoke on the optimo and big game, like a crooked priest.
if a n-gg- got beef, yo, we can take it to the streets,
put a bomb in your pager and watch it blow into chow beef.
i creep with a hundred motherf-ckers out late,
smokin’ dope, sippin’ syrup, not the kind you eat with pancakes.
taking over sh-t, do whatever for the cheese,
i need a bladder in the water a b-tch need to breathe.
zero tolerance, step out a lyin’ -ss whoopin’,
you gonna be in hot water like noodles when they be cooking.
overlookin’ my style, sick, making n-gg-s vomit,
my clan comin’ through and we clean up they comet.
now you can look, but don’t touch, why you on it, i know you want it,
that m-child n-gg-, you won’t him dead, don’t he?
if you just clear my weave, it’s gon’ be something bad,
you f-cking with the wrong one, my n-gg-, i’m gon’ madd.

[chorus x2]

- m child lyrics

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