Who's Knoccin' At My Door

(Who is it?) Mac Shawn

(Who is it?) The Mac!

(Sup? What you need) I don't know quarter, half or something, what? Fifty?

(Oh you need a fifty sac?) Yeah get me the fifty

(Hold on, I got half for $250) Cash?

(Dropping zones is $500 more) Oh my God

(So what you need is what I got) Man, give it to me now

I get up early in the morning, I'm yawning, I'm tired as fuck

My body aching, thanking God that I made it as much as I need

Bread, my mamma covered me under the shadow

With the niggas that I meet on the street that I have to battle

At a celebrity status, opportunities I'm grabbing

If it's weed, or a better life I got to have it

With my homies I'm smoking, I'm taking away the pain

With the problems that hold me down, and it seems to be strange

It ain't no thang to handle my situation just like a G

Without them dollars, I could say that my life is incomplete

And to the world I'm a dogg pound gangsta

Making paper, who gives a fuck if I'm busting on playa haters

I can't stand an infiltrater who's suppose to be your homie

But later, in the end realize that he's a phony

To the police that raided my shit, making my shit hot again

I relocated, came up on a jack pot of ends

Got to hand it to myself, giving it all that I got

Everyday I gain money nigga, come up on glocks

You know, but I guess that I'm up on thangs for sure

And I hear money knocking at my door

But I guess that I'm up on thangs for sure

And I hear money knocking at my door

Can I hear money knocking at my door

Can the police be coming for the weed and the yo

Can it be a customer looking for a dub

I think they out just to set me up

I'm more popular than ever, take me out nigga never

Will I die clocking a million on my way up to the ladder

It don't matter nigga, what the fuck did I do

Plus I got to keep it real and to myself stay true

I'm draped in blue and gray but I'm straight making it happen

Robbin' or slangin' or I got to stay focused on rapping

It's all about the legitimate way to make ya pay

No fun in LA, or Long Beach, or compton, or Watts

Wherever I lay my head down to sleep

Thanking God for my children and my soul's at peace

Yeah, am I the father I try to be?

Between me and the mamma it's drama won't let it be

See I'm on my own, got's to move on

Bitches to lend on, use 'em and then just get the fuck on

If I boned, I fucked, it ain't no thang

Like the pussy is attracted to the fortune and fame

Running bitches like a video game, it ain't no thang

Had the freak of the week last week, it wasn't no thang

It's like that, freak nasty

I know you fine but you look like lassie BIATCH!

But I guess that I'm up on thangs for sure

And I hear money knocking at my door

Can I hear money knocking at my door

Can the police be coming for the weed and the yo

Can it be a customer looking for a dub

I think they out just to set me up

Y'all know when y'all selling dope

And everybody knocking at the mother fucking door

You don't know who it is

It could be your mother, could be your brother,

could be the police, could be the feds,

and it could be a nigga coming to smoke your ass

So watch who you open that door for, Aight, Ok, Alright!

Yeah, this game is like a bubble

There's always a player hater that wants to prick it

But you got to let that bubble rise to it's highest level

Away from the bullshit

Let it float, let it flow

The way smooth shit go, with or without a low

Without money or without a whore

Because the highest power's gonna see you through it

For sure, because that's where belief comes in with self

Let it go, let it flow

(you know what, you right)