Mr. Mailman (I Don't Want No Letter)(Album Version)

歌詞

(*talking*) (*knocking on door*) who the fuck is it (It's the mailman), about time you got here (you got my money), yeah 250 dollas (what the fuck is 250 dollas, say Fed-Ex This Al-Ex, and I'm fin to execute your Motherfucking ass, if you don't give me the Rest of my god damn money) (*screaming*) [Hook] I'm the mailman, I'm the mailman I'm the mailman, sacks or stacks in my hand I'm the mailman, I'm the mailman I went from rags to riches, now you bitches can't understand [Al-D] I wonder if a nigga, wasn't down with this rap shit Would I get the love and hugs, and all this dap shit Signing autographs, no strap no mask Now my trash in the past, ain't gotta worry bout the task I got up off my ass, and mashed for my cash Now his and her jacks, or own glass in the grass I stash and stash, until I stretch mark the vault And the pain from the game, made me gain with my chalk I thought of this day, when the haters all knock Now I'm getting props, from the same foul mouth God damn, niggas ain't shit now-a-days And bitches flock a nigga, when they see you getting paid But like I got mine, you gotta get your's I'm on my grind in the studio, as if it was chores Now you look shook, and you don't understand I went from rags to riches, bitches call me the mailman [Hook - 2x] [Al-D] First I'll fuck my foes, and these money hungry hoes Two-face niggas and bitches, hating to see me on toes From the hood to every state, city, town and block I'm infesting the intersection, with this uncut knot Watch what you can't stop, don't knock cause we the shit Third Coast smoke and toast, to this pimping G shit Forever chasing cheddar, ass on leather Dripping candy gripping wood, see we floss together Living lavage with lavage, having straight to karats Now we too damn established, in the eyes of the savage We gon ball till we fall, hanging placks on the wall Sipping drank and smoking dank, passing up the alcohol Buy up the whole mall, invest and make mo' G'd up head to toe, and keep our music playing slow Third Coast my home, but I'm Southeast raised Trying to increase my knot, and find a spot in the shade [Hook - 2x] [Mr. 3-2] The mailman bitch, but I'm here to collect Take my respect, make sure I get the right ones to check You feeling me yet, I gotta get mine Every nickel and dime, I stop niggas like stop signs With glock 9's and barettas, it's whatever with me The G-O-V, still throwing up S.U.C. 3-2 and Al-D, go and get it with no tussle Working our muscle, living our life on the hustle Wanting our albums, doing shows and features When this deal go bad, I'ma have to delete ya You wanna meet your up talk, with all the shedded dealing I'm bout cash in my hand, brother how a nigga feeling [Hook - 2x] I'm the mailman