The Nation Of Thizzlam

(album: Da U.S. Open - 2005)

[Dubee:]
That's that real shit, boy
That's that real shit, boy
Check me out

Now let me take time just to set y'all straight
Fuck what ya love, it's Crestside out the gate
And what that mean, it's me and my team
Either Cutthoat Committe or that Five-Tre-Feen
Thugging with the boys on the A-V-E
Gave her your linen, hollering, "Hey, beezy"
When they see me, they know the thug be out
Don't mug me, pal, I'm the type to let the slug leak out
You wonder how I'm all in your town,.50 cal down
Ain't no smile, just a thizz and a frown
Buttered up to the brim on my brow
Grimey out the gutter with that turf know-how, so much style
Ain't did my thang in a while, but watch me wizzle wow
Hard as Hugh Hefner when I send a bizzle out
Don't test me, pal, just go on and check me out
First to keep it thug when the guns come out

[Mac Mall:]
Nation of Thizzlam, we blast, we bomb
Squares out a slum but they can't come this dumb
Fully with the hundred-round drum
Madman, Crest land where we from
Nation of Thizzlam, we blast, we bomb
Squares out a slum but they can't come this dumb
Fully with the hundred-round drum
Madman, Crest land where we from

[Mac Dre:]
Little pig, little pig, let me in
I got Jake on my tail tryna take me to the pen
And I've already been, it ain't cool
If I'm going back, you's a motherfucking fool
I'm finna call Abdul, he got ID's and socials
It's time to kirk out, cuddie, get coastal
My also got the Southwest plug
Kiss my daughter, give my mama a hug
I'm further, boy, bye-bye now
I'm on major thizz and pow-pow now
Time to live it up, 'cause I'm going out big
Hugh Hef', Bill Gates shit, ya dig?
With amenities on deck, my briddy in check
A pound of the light finna take to the neck
Ain't no telling where I'll be tomorrow
Bon voyage, nigga, sayonara

[Mac Mall:]
Nation of Thizzlam, we blast, we bomb
Squares out a slum but they can't come this dumb
Fully with the hundred-round drum
Madman, Crest land where we from
Nation of Thizzlam, we blast, we bomb
Squares out a slum but they can't come this dumb

[PSD:]
I got a 7-3 revving, a 7-3 Chevy Classic, a 7-5 ElDog Caddy
I got a few hoes, by all of which I'm called daddy
Love that cooch hole but to cutthoats, it's called babby
No jail time, them white folk had me
No dope but found baggies
Undercover cat tried to entrap me
It was Chuck Noll, his file and that Vietnamese one
And that Filipina fat bitch who slipped and squeezed one
Tell mama call the bails bond and go on and cheese 'em
And the bailiff up in intake to go on and free him
See a nigga in them county blues, sure appease 'em
Telling lies and the jury gon' sure believe him
Off of 18 months, I'm bringing all the seasons
Sitting on Donald Goines books, all the sequels
Only love is a kite and when I see my peoples
Other than that, I'm thinking and breathing equal

[Mac Mall:]
I'm ripped, twisted, bent
Sessed out off in this that keep the Backwoods lit
Chemical Ali smoking the poison cat piss
So much dope, I said, "That strain bammish"
But I still I manage to spit verbal gymnastics
Sure 'nough Mactastic, tyrannic tactics
Always holding, you catch me high in traffic
Coughing like asthmatic
Spit good game, that's why your broad is a fanatic
She all on my dick, and yeah, I let her have it
You found she blew me, and man, it made you quite frantic
But best'a get by before you get your brain splattered all on the canvas
Certain, it's savage
Give me a heater or with a shank, I'm doing damage
Due to Mall's brand, under-handed