MR. 3-2 - Man Up lyrics

(feat. Quest, Troyo)

[Mr. 3-2:]

It's a brand new day, brand new year

Don't be listening to that bullshit, niggaz put in your ear

I do this I do that, hoe I get big stacks

Break fools on tracks, and yes I do sell stracks

We mashing that, all of love with no money

I got too much hustle and grind, for you dummies

Skinny and Presidential, hooked me up with Street Game

Put the form in together, then we will get change

These lames, all wanna know my pocket

I'm a gangsta, so reality I drop it

Broads bopping, keep me up like buffet

Niggaz jock it, always got some'ing to say

Hey hey, Fat Domino is a pimp

Mob boss chop it up, eating steak and shrimp

Evidence, dogs never find no traces

Got my poker face on, holding all the aces

[Hook: x2]

Presidential, is how I'm treated on front row

Street Game, are mo'fuckers getting they do'

This world, I have you tripping scratching your head

Man up, take your lick and go fed

[Quest:]

I'm posted on the cut, of that Mag and Dwayne

Them FED's on my ass, cause the slabs that I slang

Still I hustle to pimp my pockets, with mo' knots than a rope

Still be busting no discussion, infra dot with a scope

It ain't no hope for you bitch niggaz, suckers and snitch niggaz

Acting like bitches with pussies, running your lips nigga

You do the crime, you do the time

Don't make a nigga run up in your house, and use the nine

Bust two into your spine, for telling all the real niggaz business

Nobody can save you, when I kill no one witness

Swear games with scope brains, spills from a distance

Calicoes burry hoes, burn a nigga biscuit

You on some Bennie Hill shit, talking to laws

You gon make me come through, and put a cross on your jaw

You acting like you hard, when you know you a bitch

When we don't really bar, cause we know you a snitch

[Hook x2]

[Quest:]

Presidential and Street Game, hooking up like feces

A million dollar mission, knocking out buster bitches

Cleaning clocks like dishes, peep the watch that glisten

Stand too hard I swear to God, mayn need to stop your vision

Red butter played the gutter, hustling cheese for fritos

While these haters sucking on pussy, trying to please these freak hoes

Need to get your mind right, 'fore we run in your residential

Mr. 3-2 from Street Game, and Q-U-E from Presidential

[Troyo:]

Old mark ass nigga, get your money get out my face

I'm po'ing up big mud, telling out skeet taste

A cage go for sixteen, sitting high in the sky

Crawling on 22's, this far I'm too fly

Troyo, showing these boys the blue flame

Damn right I'm Street Game, till the world set flame

Cock it and aim, leaving you on your back pocket

Ghetto affiliated, and fools they can't stop it

[talking:]

Street P-O-P mayn, ghetto affiliates

Willie what's up baby uh, 3-2 it go down mayn

(it go down, Mr. Mr. fucking your sister

You know me, ok what's up with it

We got the Juke around this motherfucker, yeah-yeah)