Miss You - Mac Dre

Baby, I know—I'll be back

For real, I’m coming back

I’ll be back

I’ll be back

How you doin', baby?

I’m Thizzelle

Old school dope game like Troops and Gazelles

Who from Vallejo, Crestside Cali

Where niggas stack scrill, mac beals like Ally

Don’t Berry like Halle, we Barry like Bonds

We don’t make hits, we make homeruns

Out the park and, bitches on Larkin

Cougnut barkin', swing it and I park it

Hit yo' apartment, on the late night

Just suck me, fuck me, make sure I ate right

I guess it’s the dick, when I give you the dick

You go buck louie, get stewie stupid dick

Plumber, pipe layer, Mr. Roto-Rooter

Fuck you like a player, smoking on a hooter

Put on my clothes, be on my way

You look at Dre and say…

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

I know, baby;

I’ll be back

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

I’ll be back

I’ll be back

I said I’d be back

You never met a nigga like Dre before

That been doing player shit since ‘84

Don’t believe me?

Trump adds the ratio

I don’t chase the hoe, I replace the hoe

All on a bitch like Leon Phelps

I’m trying to get rich, and if she don’t help

The bitch get benched like a pitcher in a slump

You wanna chip in?

Let me get you in some pumps

I do my thang, you do yo' thang

You don’t even got to be no pimp and hoe thang

We can do the thang like Clyde and Bonnie

Let me put you in a Benz, get you out that Omni

We can get down on sandy beaches

Sippin' on wine, eating on peaches

Lav lav lovely when you fuck with Mac Dre

And every time I leave, you have to say…

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

I know, I know

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

I’ll be back

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

I know, I know

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

I’ll be back

Yeah, bitch

I know you tryna kick it with a player, all that shit, right?

But I gotsta go

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

(I'm gonna miss you in the morning)

Part 2

All right… yep…mmm-hmm…I'm retchy

Back to the pimpin' at hand

I’ll stalk a hoe, and shit on a man

I’ll make bitches climb high trees to get away from this pimpin'

I’ll make a bitch run—I'll run slough who, annie roo

The first Kentucky Derby—

Nigga, I’ll get a bitch faster than Jesse Owens out there on the track when she

see a mac comin'

Get so quick, bitch, when you see this

What’s really?

My name is Furl

Back in the days, used to slang girl

Have a S-Curl, a yes curl

And at the same time, Jiggy had the Coug with the fresh pearl

I had a plain nada, seven-trey Impala

Pop rocks, the fiends, they would holla

Stack a dollar, Captain Kingstone

Hella dollars, a nigga would bring home

My kingdome, the Country Club Crest

No vest?

Catch a few to the chest

It might sound silly, but nigga really

Shake the cute bitch, had to do the dumb dilly

No cheese on the chili is all she wrote

Plus I heard she on yams, you know, she smoke

I ain’t no joke;

when I spit, the mic smoke

Don’t roll it if it ain’t that light dope

Nigga, let the mic go;

you ain’t no rapper

You ain’t no pimp, you scared to slap her

The cold cold capper, remember?

I put a bitch on a plane to Denver

She gon' bring me back my money

Like the Gap Band say, she keep runnin'

I’m from the days of the Gumby and donkey ropes

Boss game to my brain, wrote chunky notes

Porch smoke in the household, pops a mack

Older cousin on the track, plus my uncle crack—fuck it

I want to bubble, started joogin' the fam

Tuck it hot as the solution, flip the cuddie with cam, damn

See, the times done changed

Went from razor-cutting my ‘caine, clutching my thang, cut in the game

Burner gloves on my knuckles for the ballers at clubs

They hatin' the dubs, ‘cause their bitch is offering hugs

Bitter smirk plus the purp got me learning the vibes

Throw on my Thizz eyes, ryde like Klyde, we ridin' tonight

From the slow goals, with the matching hat and logo

Before I was two guns with a matching gat or 4−4

With another under my letterman, nothing better than

A have-not coming up, now he having knot, he coming up

I didn’t have homework, I had my own work

It’s money on my pages, yours even turn, don’t perk (Nope)

I’m fresh in my donkey rope

In my D-boy stance, grippin' my donkey, hoe

Youngest nigga in the crackhouse

Half my clientele pops had in his cathouse

They know me well, they cracked out

They laugh about how simple I am, they want credit

I dead it, and no deals on grams

Keep your eye on me, youngin', sharp, play my part

Look at me, I’m flossin' now

Coogi down ‘cause mall fit ain’t in my style, wow

Click click pow, what’s up now?

Listen to my 9 millimeter go blaow

Get bit by mosquito, catch West Nile

If you ain’t in the pen, don’t be late for trial

It’s the new style, boy, and I vow

To make the dogs on my Cougnut bark and growl

I’ll pimp a heifer big as a cow

Without a movie star smile, don’t touch that dial

Lost a fed trial, slick as wet towel

Rough as a fuckin' fingernail file

On top of the pile, they jockin' my style

They wanna pimp like me but they don’t know how

But this is Thizzelle Washington, yeah

This is the Thizzelle Washington

The Nation of Thizzlam

I have wonderful McGill Lamont

I have young Klyde the Glide Julius Rydah

Be in the mammy fucktown pimpin'

And you know what I just realized about pimpin'?

Is it ain’t hoeing if you ain’t paying pimpin'

Y’all just out there fuckin' and you might be stealin'

Fly a kite, take a flight

Bitch, rob two dykes

Go to the church and bust a priest out, bitch

But get my money

You take the offering

Sell your blood—kill the baby and sell the blood, man

Gorilla hoe—I want a gorilla hoe for this pimpin'

Is there any gorilla hoes in the building?

(Where they at, mayne?)

I done had every hoe but a gorilla hoe

I want a bitch that’s gorilla hoeing

Throwing pussy blood on the track

Throw period blood at a trick, and stay in shape, bitch

Gorilla hoe for a nigga one time (Go hard, bitch)

What else?

What else could she do to prove herself to the Nation of Thizzm?