Marlon Craft & Method Man – Muggsy Bogues

Muggsy Bogues - Marlon Craft & Method Man Lyrics / / / Verse 1: Marlon Craft / I pulled up in a Muggsy Bogues with the pennies / ‘Cause I’m short on time, so don’t be short on a penny / In our New York, they would envy the flavor

Marlon Craft & Method Man – Muggsy Bogues
Muggsy Bogues - Marlon Craft & Method Man Lyrics

/ Verse 1: Marlon Craft

I pulled up in a Muggsy Bogues with the pennies

‘Cause I’m short on time, so don’t be short on a penny

In our New York, they would envy the flavor

Now it’s a bunch of white girls callin’ delis bodegas

Elegant player, guys they call relevant major

Look to me for how I be steppin’ and gamblin’

So I’m like, “Relevant to who?” Because I’m not watchin’

I feel like Jeff Van Gundy yellin’, “Stop floppin'”

Own the company, they ain’t even got stock options

When you timeless, you don’t care if you not poppin’ (Please)

Married to this fly shit, I got Poppins

Haters got a list mile long and shit, they not stoppin’

Shots droppin’, out here sippin’ Scotch like I’m Ron Swanson

How you sign a deal to act gangster with a cop option? (Wow)

New day, new work

Straight sauce like the drums, couldn’t see the kick make the groove work

When clicks is the new worth, the risk to be true hurts

I live this, I’d lose first

‘Fore I’d win cuttin’ corners just to up the score

Obstacles gon’ pop at you, just gotta budget for ‘em

But look at the impression that the passion make

I guess there was a method to my madness, ayy, huh

I pulled up in the Chris Mullin

St. John’s ‘cause the storm comin’

I see a lotta lightning, but I don’t hear the thunder, though

You gotta let it roll

/ Chorus: Marlon Craft & Method Man

I already told you I’m short on time

Fuck your lil’ clicks, we do more offline

Bitch, I’m in a zone, why you so pressed?

Give me what I’m owed, not a cent less

This ain’t Morse code, say what you mean

The money come first, but the paper too green (Yeah)

There gotta be somethin’ more that I’m runnin’ towards

Than the wind (Than the wind)

/ Verse 2: Method Man

Snapback, but I’m well-fitted, F it, oh well, figured (Uh-huh)

I wish ‘em well while I’m throwin’ pennies at well-wishers

You’ll get it later, I’m blunt with flavor like stale Swishers

Smoke with the switcher, that five stick ya in Hell quicker

All hail the riddler, the hell he raise, and to Hell with ya (Ah)

Split up the clique ‘cause they all switch, no Heil Hitler

The island get ya, no Gilligan’s like, “Aye, Skipper”

Make sure your men know I’m the wave like, “Bye, Ginger”

Don’t be a boat rocker, cutter shot both choppers

Old shot that got your ears ringin’, that’s a door knocker

Blow dropper, I go a cappella like the old opera

Flow proper, I say absolute like this the old vodka

I feel at home, partner, you and your partners be at home

Got ya waitin’ on that bag, you some home shoppers

Showtime to a show watcher

I show the parts where they show doctors ‘bout to pull a plug, I’m a show stopper

On Harlem nights, I’m a globetrotter in gold Pradas

Plus the gold standard, my gold diggers and Goldschläger

Two minds craft, so me and Marlon can craft a monster

That chupacabra, the shooter come with the Uber driver

You not a rider, you and your sponsors still got ‘em bonkers

My coast is contra with D as hot as that block in Yonkers

Not a mobster whose art of war is divide and conquer

But I wear a fitted like Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca

/ Chorus: Marlon Craft

I already told you I’m short on time

Fuck your lil’ clicks, we do more offline

Bitch, I’m in a zone, why you so pressed?

Give me what I’m owed, not a cent less

This ain’t Morse code, say what you mean

The money come first, but the paper too green

There gotta be somethin’ more that I’m runnin’ towards

Than the wind

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