Mc Ren – Mr. Fuck Up lyrics

(NOT* Cash Money -- MC Ren's brother) My

niggaz call me Grinch and yes I'm known to be a fuck up Loaded
clip folded, sticks my, lifts and double cuffed up Put
my stick so nigga 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 bitches on my dick You
sorry sap sips still hangin' on my shit 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 fuckin' 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 Dopeman. when I'm chillin' in the spot My
niggaz call me Bishop when I'm rollin' with my glock The
crackers call me bandit when I'm runnin' from the cops And
the bitches call me daddy when I'm tearin' up the cock Yo
the title's Mr Fuck. up so I figure that I'm fucked Got
no luck shit, gotta, go and earn a quick buck Boom
boom is, the sound of my cannon 'Cause
I'm a nigga with a motherfuckin' gun master plannin' I'm
a crazy ass nigga makin' motherfuckers fall A
nigga from the streets hangin' in the fuckin' hall I
place where we smoke bud and niggaz get bent And
when it comes to music put on MC Ren shit Now
everybody chillin' and the bitches gettin' freaky Took
a trick to the room now she gots ta lick me Lickin'
out my ass hole like a fuckin' groupie I'm
through now I cleans up and call my nigga Juvy Headin'
downstairs my niggaz 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 nigga 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 motherfucker we can thump Or
get a fuckin' 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 fuckin' 9 and your clip And
let these motherfuckers know what's up on the Whole Click