It's Going Down Songtext

von South Circle

Now it's reserved for niggas with big dicks, so flip*
As I kicks from coast to coast when the wind blows
I'll be servin these niggas like this is it
As I flips that raw shit on the tenth I be gettin blitzed
I be the master of you all, I'll
Be the six million dollar man but you'll never see me fall guy
Now let's assume that it's late one night
A trunk full of Tecs, comin on yo set, it's that nigga (Mike)
As I expose of my ex-hoes
Cause flows of others be comin and jockin a brother
Now let's protest cause you niggas tryina hate this
But you ziggas is some b-i-t-c-h-es
The time has come for evaluation, ejaculation
Me and Jada Pinkett durin masturbation
How do rumors get started?
By these busta-ass niggas tryina be like Humphrey so they Bogartin
Tryina be up in my busi-ness, isn't this mystical
That a brother could be so damn pitiful?
Best to stay in line
Cause you'll get broke off and forgot about tryina fuck with mine
It's goin down

It's goin down, down, down

It goes once-twice-three times should make 'em swing
The swiftest man alive is back on the scene
Mean-muggin comin out a speaker near you
It's that two man crew, Mr. Mike and uh...
Who that nigga there? Thorough, that's his name
Same game, different swang but maintain
Main thang I'm a hustler, never lazy
With so much flavor that you fools can taste me
Take the joint and then give me the blunt
Cause what I got is what you want, so don't front
Not a stunt, do a movie and fuck a actor
A hungry rapper just doin what he has to
Make, strip you ass-naked off your manhood
Cause I know that your ego can't stand good
So I test your limits, take you to the boundary
There's so many weak niggas around me
Found a remedy to rid me of you rudy-poohs
Said fuck y'all and keep on stackin loot
Break a bitch cause MJ said so
And yeah, it's goin down on your traitin-ass hoes

So now it's goin down and like crown I be royal
Slick as baby oil, heat it up, watch it boil
From the soil of the ghetto to the planes in the sky
Tell me why, why would the next man lie?
About who he know, where he been, what he did
Do the math like (?), take yo ass to the crib
Cause you phoney and you fake, makin my clique look bad
Now you lookin sad, your brother say he mad
But you see, I just laugh, I knew you was a front
I show no love, not cause I had none from the jump
Pump our tape in yo jeep, watch yo gal wanna freak
Get lyrically molested by the way that I speak
It's the elite crystal clear to the ear, I'm out of sight
Airtight after night when I start to take flight
So right about now on the 1 and 2
Mr. Mike, show 'em how we do

I stacks my croker sacks, then I sit back with the Mac
Black Cesar, let me please ya with my contact
So now I'm high with the Superfly
Takes a bath after watchin Shaft as my silk draws hang dry
Let's throw the dice, me and Dolemite, hold on tight
None of you niggas wants to fuck with Mr. Mike
I packs a Glock up that block if I have to
Blast non-stop if I have to
Dash through yo set, but never let 'em see me sweat
Let's bet that Left-Eye wouldn'ta never burned up my shit
But still I'm Rison like Andre, and all day
I smokes that ganjay from H-Town to Zimbabwe

Youknowhatmsayin?
It's goin down like that for the nine-fizzive
South Circle up in here