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totally insane – no more mr. nice guy lyrics

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[verse 1: ad kapone]

i’m not a fairy tale, i rock the mic very well
my hand on a trigga, n-gga making much mail
off the rap song, never had a cr-p song
don’t like losing money, n-ggas will get stole on
by alb thugster, known around town as the neighborhood mugster
i slang d and bring g’s in the pocket, she roaring like a lion and i’m soaring like a rocket
young b-tches on the jock of the ad-man, i would hit you with a left but that’s my bad hand
i’m the ace in your face, why you trying me?
the insane, direct from the backstreet
mike d hooking sh-t up proper
don’t give a f-ck about a b-tch or a copper
young gangster from the heart of the dark side, the albs in the house and i’m on high
young raw -ss hustler with a fat d-ck, no time for a wh0r- i’m trying to stack b-tch
ad kapone out the ho with a new clown, to the g,the v, and midtown
and for the menlo and that tramp hoe, try to play the ace but that’s alright though
f-ck around with the ad ain’t nothing nice, the alb is the code to the strong side
don’t get me wrong ain’t nothing weak about p.a. them n-ggas make mail and the b-tches don’t play
i ain’t talking sh-t about saving epa’s life, this is going out to the whole 415
to l.a. , bombay , and new york too, something to slam out when you gone off true
two stoges two my friends keep making mail, this is gangster rhyme n-gga not a fairy tale

[verse 2: ad kapone]

don’t bring adam b-tch you better save the drama, i ain’t nothing nice you better go and ask your momma
she know the d-ck is good, don’t get me mis-understood, i have the crown while i’m diggin her like robbin hood
stealing from a b-tch and give in to a wh0r-, oops stealing from the rich and give-in to the poor
to break south when i pull the fat d-ck out, the c-ck is flamme ima stick this d-ck in her mouth
i asked flam and flam it’s flammable, mac said it’s hot enough to light a candle
so ima past and keep on counting cash, your on a dash to add your just trash
been a maggot -ss hoe all your d-mn life, settle down or be a black mans wife
but not mine cause i don’t like your kind, tell your friends to go with ad b-tch
no more mr. nice guy

[verse 3: mac-10]

yo it’s me!
back on the mic flowing some mo sh-t, n-ggas just locked on my nuts with a tight grip
left for a while i came back with something new, and now they want to jock me, the m-a-c
swinging on my nuts for what reason, a different girl everyday a different time every season
make no mistake to get caught up, you’d respect my main hood the way i was brought up
showing no mercy on you b-tches, im stepping hoes in they neck and examining jaws on them sissys
you play the game or you’ll checkmate, you get frustrated cause and get slayed
so carry on sucka you can’t handle, put you in the dark room ,shh, light a candle
so now your left all alone you start screaming, but everybody is gone
now you know whose in charge, its the mac-10 young n-gga so cop a squat
you know the rules so learn to obey, even though you can’t handle the weight

[verse 4: mac 10]

mo money, mo money b-tch what the f-ck is wrong, i’m sitting in the cut drinking striaght get gone
you b-tches all jerkin talking about you getting raw, my n-gga tc straight steal to the jaw
it ain’t nothing new it’s just and everyday thing, you b-tches going back and forth its all the same
my n-gga can’t stay on his b-tch without a pause , you stupid -ss b-tches is the mother f-cking cause
i’m letting hoes know they gotta slide to the right, cause left is the jeff and n-gga just might
give a little sweet, give a b-tch a little twist, like my homie ad give a b-tch a fat d-ck
clipping ain’t nothing hoe i got to keep a fat bank, a short pack of hen a pack of fat dank
cause if it ain’t money hoe, it’s all about me i fade stupid b-tches that be jocking for the green
rollin on crome is a part of my life, i’m not giving you money b-tch you ain’t my wife
i’m a money making n-gga yous a money maggot b-tch, going for my pocket trying to get me for my grits
you would take a n-gga and straight straight do him, but i ain’t got no time for you funky maggot booty
the m is the place and the m is what i spoke, the line is the rhyme and there is no more mr. nice guy