Mulah Marciano - MADISON

I know they be mad at son (know they be mad at son)
I know they be mad at son (know they be mad at son)
I know they be mad at son
Two faced, two tone
She reaching for sex, but I only want dome
Couple of texts till they start ring my phone
Is anyone home? I feel all alone
Mimicking Mulah they scream out my songs
That's bible like Psalms
This world in my palms
Thrift with the fit like a mannequin hommes
What's that in the air? I be fly as a drone, nigga
Throw the dice how I roll it
Smith and Wesson, locked and loaded
Making moves down the road, ayee
Everybody follow code, ayee
All this work getting sold
Got a bag of sneeze, what you wanted?
Marijuana leaves smell a skunk, ayee
Bad bitty there got a trunk, ayee
Yeah, that be my smash
A double entendre, use her as my stash
Keep stuffing my pockets with all type of cash
My right palm so itchy it's making me mad
Seen all the signs so it never get scratched
I spoke to my God then I followed his path
The streets was my teacher, I been bout my math
They taught me some good, and it taught me some bad
Throw up my set, niggas throw in the flag
Popping some tags, niggas toes get a tag
Don't got no children, but some how i'm
Daddy and even when legal it seem like i'm trafficking
When I pop out New York, i'm on Madison
Stepping on toes, yeah I know they be mad at son
When I pop out New York, i'm on Madison
Stomping on toes, yeah I know they be mad at son (MSG)
Cha Ching ahhh, woah
Go anywhere the fuck I wanna go
Global (I know they be mad at son)

Written by:
NIQUEL WORD

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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