Mr. Fuck Up Lyrics
| Song | Mr. Fuck Up |
| Artist | MC Ren |
| Album | Shock of the Hour |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Juvenile, The Whole Click ... | |
| * (not cash money -- mc ren's brother) | |
| My *************z call me grinch and yes i'm known to be a ************* up | |
| Loaded clip, folded sticks, my lifts and double cuffed up | |
| Put my stick so ************* feel my pockets with the dollar | |
| 'cause they rock keep the stock in a private prison parlor | |
| Grinch you did it, your black ass really did it | |
| Give bone the microphone and let him kill it | |
| Give bone the microphone and watch me beat you like a cop | |
| Lil' g from the hall so the maggot won't stop | |
| And plus i'm packin' punches always keep a good grip | |
| My homies call me bone from the whole damn click | |
| I live like a mack and keep the ******* on my ************* | |
| You sorry sap sips still hangin' on my *************t | |
| Compton is the heart and that's where we all from | |
| The jackin' goin' on in the hood and in the slum | |
| And don't be caught slippin' while we dippin' the 4 | |
| 'cause ren'll grab his nine and watch him smoke 'em from the door | |
| And then we make a dash and put that ass in the air | |
| True checkin' done by the true ******' player | |
| I'm headed to the cut with straight chronic in my pock | |
| Rainin' make 'em kill 'em 'cause i'm servin' 'em spot | |
| And that's how it's done i keep it flowin' like a sailor | |
| My beats are large my feats are star, some called me chuck taylor | |
| Then i call the juvy 'cause i know we gotta coupe | |
| Don't worry 'bout a damn we got the end, we gettin' loot | |
| Then call me mr. ******man when i'm chillin' in the spot | |
| My *************z call me bishop when i'm rollin' with my glock | |
| The crackers call me bandit when i'm runnin' from the cops | |
| And the ******* call me daddy when i'm tearin' up the ************* | |
| Yo the title's mr. ************* up so i figure that i'm ****** | |
| Got no luck, *************t, gotta go and earn a quick buck | |
| Boom boom, is the sound of my cannon | |
| 'cause i'm a ************* with a mother******' gun master plannin' | |
| I'm a crazy ass ************* makin' mother*******s fall | |
| A ************* from the streets hangin' in the ******' hall | |
| I place where we smoke bud and *************z get bent | |
| And when it comes to music put on mc ren *************t | |
| Now everybody chillin' and the ******* gettin' freaky | |
| Took a trick to the room now she gots ta lick me | |
| Lickin' out my ass hole like a ******' groupie | |
| I'm through now i cleans up and call my ************* juvy | |
| Headin' downstairs my *************z hand me a 4-o | |
| Smokin' the extension you know it's the indo | |
| Now i'm feelin' high like i'm sittin' on a cloud | |
| The dust that we kick i guess we live our lives foul | |
| Beware of the ************* that they call j-rock | |
| The party's goin' through but i still got my glock | |
| I'm watchin' for the bad apples in every bunch | |
| And if it's necessary mother******* we can thump | |
| Or get a ******' pump, put a hole in your chest | |
| Slugs goin' straight through a bullet proof vest | |
| Matters gettin' worse if i have to drop the dogs | |
| Beat ya in your face yellin' till ya hit the hall | |
| So smalls, get your ******' 9 and your clip | |
| And let these mother*******s know what's up on the whole click |
| zuo ci : Juvenile, The Whole Click ... | |
| not cash money mc ren' s brother | |
| My z call me grinch and yes i' m known to be a up | |
| Loaded clip, folded sticks, my lifts and double cuffed up | |
| Put my stick so feel my pockets with the dollar | |
| ' cause they rock keep the stock in a private prison parlor | |
| Grinch you did it, your black ass really did it | |
| Give bone the microphone and let him kill it | |
| Give bone the microphone and watch me beat you like a cop | |
| Lil' g from the hall so the maggot won' t stop | |
| And plus i' m packin' punches always keep a good grip | |
| My homies call me bone from the whole damn click | |
| I live like a mack and keep the on my | |
| You sorry sap sips still hangin' on my t | |
| Compton is the heart and that' s where we all from | |
| The jackin' goin' on in the hood and in the slum | |
| And don' t be caught slippin' while we dippin' the 4 | |
| ' cause ren' ll grab his nine and watch him smoke ' em from the door | |
| And then we make a dash and put that ass in the air | |
| True checkin' done by the true ' player | |
| I' m headed to the cut with straight chronic in my pock | |
| Rainin' make ' em kill ' em ' cause i' m servin' ' em spot | |
| And that' s how it' s done i keep it flowin' like a sailor | |
| My beats are large my feats are star, some called me chuck taylor | |
| Then i call the juvy ' cause i know we gotta coupe | |
| Don' t worry ' bout a damn we got the end, we gettin' loot | |
| Then call me mr. man when i' m chillin' in the spot | |
| My z call me bishop when i' m rollin' with my glock | |
| The crackers call me bandit when i' m runnin' from the cops | |
| And the call me daddy when i' m tearin' up the | |
| Yo the title' s mr. up so i figure that i' m | |
| Got no luck, t, gotta go and earn a quick buck | |
| Boom boom, is the sound of my cannon | |
| ' cause i' m a with a mother' gun master plannin' | |
| I' m a crazy ass makin' mother s fall | |
| A from the streets hangin' in the ' hall | |
| I place where we smoke bud and z get bent | |
| And when it comes to music put on mc ren t | |
| Now everybody chillin' and the gettin' freaky | |
| Took a trick to the room now she gots ta lick me | |
| Lickin' out my ass hole like a ' groupie | |
| I' m through now i cleans up and call my juvy | |
| Headin' downstairs my z hand me a 4o | |
| Smokin' the extension you know it' s the indo | |
| Now i' m feelin' high like i' m sittin' on a cloud | |
| The dust that we kick i guess we live our lives foul | |
| Beware of the that they call jrock | |
| The party' s goin' through but i still got my glock | |
| I' m watchin' for the bad apples in every bunch | |
| And if it' s necessary mother we can thump | |
| Or get a ' pump, put a hole in your chest | |
| Slugs goin' straight through a bullet proof vest | |
| Matters gettin' worse if i have to drop the dogs | |
| Beat ya in your face yellin' till ya hit the hall | |
| So smalls, get your ' 9 and your clip | |
| And let these mother s know what' s up on the whole click |
| zuò cí : Juvenile, The Whole Click ... | |
| not cash money mc ren' s brother | |
| My z call me grinch and yes i' m known to be a up | |
| Loaded clip, folded sticks, my lifts and double cuffed up | |
| Put my stick so feel my pockets with the dollar | |
| ' cause they rock keep the stock in a private prison parlor | |
| Grinch you did it, your black ass really did it | |
| Give bone the microphone and let him kill it | |
| Give bone the microphone and watch me beat you like a cop | |
| Lil' g from the hall so the maggot won' t stop | |
| And plus i' m packin' punches always keep a good grip | |
| My homies call me bone from the whole damn click | |
| I live like a mack and keep the on my | |
| You sorry sap sips still hangin' on my t | |
| Compton is the heart and that' s where we all from | |
| The jackin' goin' on in the hood and in the slum | |
| And don' t be caught slippin' while we dippin' the 4 | |
| ' cause ren' ll grab his nine and watch him smoke ' em from the door | |
| And then we make a dash and put that ass in the air | |
| True checkin' done by the true ' player | |
| I' m headed to the cut with straight chronic in my pock | |
| Rainin' make ' em kill ' em ' cause i' m servin' ' em spot | |
| And that' s how it' s done i keep it flowin' like a sailor | |
| My beats are large my feats are star, some called me chuck taylor | |
| Then i call the juvy ' cause i know we gotta coupe | |
| Don' t worry ' bout a damn we got the end, we gettin' loot | |
| Then call me mr. man when i' m chillin' in the spot | |
| My z call me bishop when i' m rollin' with my glock | |
| The crackers call me bandit when i' m runnin' from the cops | |
| And the call me daddy when i' m tearin' up the | |
| Yo the title' s mr. up so i figure that i' m | |
| Got no luck, t, gotta go and earn a quick buck | |
| Boom boom, is the sound of my cannon | |
| ' cause i' m a with a mother' gun master plannin' | |
| I' m a crazy ass makin' mother s fall | |
| A from the streets hangin' in the ' hall | |
| I place where we smoke bud and z get bent | |
| And when it comes to music put on mc ren t | |
| Now everybody chillin' and the gettin' freaky | |
| Took a trick to the room now she gots ta lick me | |
| Lickin' out my ass hole like a ' groupie | |
| I' m through now i cleans up and call my juvy | |
| Headin' downstairs my z hand me a 4o | |
| Smokin' the extension you know it' s the indo | |
| Now i' m feelin' high like i' m sittin' on a cloud | |
| The dust that we kick i guess we live our lives foul | |
| Beware of the that they call jrock | |
| The party' s goin' through but i still got my glock | |
| I' m watchin' for the bad apples in every bunch | |
| And if it' s necessary mother we can thump | |
| Or get a ' pump, put a hole in your chest | |
| Slugs goin' straight through a bullet proof vest | |
| Matters gettin' worse if i have to drop the dogs | |
| Beat ya in your face yellin' till ya hit the hall | |
| So smalls, get your ' 9 and your clip | |
| And let these mother s know what' s up on the whole click |
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