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The Pharcyde

My Man

 

My Man


That's my man doing, man
My man, my man (My man)
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man

I'm getting down with the rest of 'em, props we collecting 'em
Only stop the mic check, after that I'm setting 'em
Up for the free fall, watch me emcee y'all
Call all your troops 'cause my bag is loose
With more juice than Tupac, let's see if you got
What it takes, to bust rhymes over breaks
Took you like twenty takes to bust a rhyme on tape
'Cause you all outta shape, I'm so fly, I need a cape
Need to work on your waistline before you face mine
I don't waste time, my rhymes thick like a baseline
You wind like a bitch so give my dick some face time
You soft like cake, on the mic a straight crime
My man Tre served you on the platter, now what's the matter?
You gonna squirt a few crying 'cause we hurting you?
Yo, my man, my man and all my homies
Got plans for you phony's, that's a breath for your baloney

My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man (Yo), my man

They wanna hit me with that okie doke, whole thing up in smoke
Cheech & Chong monkey biz, throwing shit like Donkey Kong
But they got this king wrong, see I'm illuminated
But not Illuminati though, I mesmerize all the hotties at the party so
They think I'm Bob Marley
The way I'm swinging that shit up in the barrio
And my confessions get you closer to God
'Cause I ain't got shit for you niggas and broads
And some of you think that you are worth my time and energy
Gotta shoot 'em down like centipede
And stories will be told about me and some center fold
Now without plastic but Magic's in a hole
Gets Jurassic before I side classics
When asking what happens, depend on who you asking
Enough of that, I got good times to basking
Leaving that bullshit in the trash bin, for real

My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man

He knew [?]
I gotta freak my funk, so I don't fall off a flop
A fat freestyle is what I'll always be able to drop
Even if my shit goes pop, yeah, uh
'Cause here I come with the cold show stopper
Hip-hop opera 'cause fat live proper
True hip-hopper, fly rhyme dropper
Radical, mathematical, medical, theoretical doctor
Large flight Procter & Gamble
Silly like Sambo but ooh, I'ma let you know
If rap was a wild thing, I would be a ho
So that's all I gotta say, until tomorrow
And I make up some more lyrics and then I will lay it on the track
But until then it just gotta sound like that
Eh, leave it 'cause that's fat, enough

My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man
My man, my man

готово

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