Mr. Flamboyant

Yeah, I'm just a hustler on the go

Out here gettin' my propers, don't you know?

I'm livin' kind of comfortable, large mail and all, yeah

And a jealous motherfucker would love to see me fall like that, that

Yeah, this that old mackin' fast

Old school gangster style, smokin' dank

Cognac lounge beat

Cognac lounge beat (Motherfucker)

Cognac lounge beat (Mother-motherfucker)

Yeah, this that old mackin' fast

Old school gangster style, smokin' dank

Cognac lounge beat

Mr. Flamboyant (Motherfucker)

Mr. Flamboyant (Motherfucker)

As a youngster, I never knew Nathan

That disobedient-ass child in your neighborhood

You know, the one the police was always chasin'

Straight down and dirty for my props

11-years-old, extra mannish, hard-headed, shinin' rocks

I carried a powerful-ass, motherfucking oversized toy

That was hella bigger than me

Prettiest thing I ever seen, a  1979 AR-15

Clean, fully automatic and the whole killer kit

As far as me walkin' up and down the street

Folks be pointin' fingers, talking, my partner got a grip

Well, actually, what I was doin' was protectin'

My people's million-dollar spots

It was my duty, I got paid to guard the whole motherfucking block

Try and catch me if you can, now that I'm a grown man, though

The mail I got stashed away, people'll never know

(Mr. Flamboyant)

Whether it's slangin' 'em, or whatever you do, man

Just make sure you're true to the game

Still in the game, everything pretty much the same

Tryna reach a certain goal, but I gotta ditch that there metro

Alcohol and Tobacco Bureau, feds and the DEA

Yeah, just don't run up on me when I'm off that there Grand Marnier

Well, what if they blast you and slap yo'  ass in the trunk?

Partner, if this was a fifth, all of us would be drunk

Don't even like righteously, trip off your petty, punk shit like that

What is you sayin', brother?

He might be talkin' 'bout how he's to the back

Meanwhile, Bootsy was comin' around the corner

On two shoes, I mean, wheels

Scattin' in a '76 Cutlass Oldsmobile (Motherfucker)

Turnin' 360s like he was an Alaskan mobile

(Motherfucker)

Sittin' on gold ones, hot flamin' and didn't really know the deal

(Motherfucker)

(Mr. Flamboyant)

I said, "What the fuck is wrong with you, you crazy-ass motherfucker?"

Partner back there tried to mean-mug me

And turn two tight ones like I was a sucker

So slow your lil' ass down on this here side of town

'Fore you find yourself melted or either beat down

Like that, and that's on the gooch, my brother

Because nowadays, a dollar comes harder than a motherfucker

So if you out there in that world, don't get caught or be slippin'

'Cause today's society ain't trippin'

Mr. Flamboyant, yeah, that might just be your name

The center of attention, money, fame

(Mr. Flamboyant)

Fuckin' with a bitch's brain, a player, insane

Leader of the squad, much yola, a gang

See, he throws the whole unit in a big-ass gumbo pot

Foam, stir, let it settle, then make it locked

You can like righteously tell a real swing when he's about his mail

Sparked overkill, five-hundred grams extra

Pertainin' to the triple-beam scale

Solid as a rock, white, white, white, A-1, peep the pistol

(Mr. Flamboyant)

None of those scandalous-ass cakin' with baking soda

(Mr. Flamboyant)

Whether you know it or not, this here's a dog's game

You gotta watch your back and play it well

Way too many brothers get took for large lump sums of mail

You can't be frail and don't be light in your lil' narrow ass

Gain some weight, drink beer with potatoes and gravy, it's not too late

Become a savage, get swole, but once twenty-inch arms establish

One-hitter quitters, the whole get-down, not run up on me now

Uh, E, why you come at 'em like that, man?

You know they can't understand that shit

When you doin' about a buck fifty, man

But now, put that shit in perspective for 'em, though

All right, check this out, my sahob

Due to the fact that I am at liberty

To release such valuable information towards the public

You know what I'm sayin'?

Every last one of my sahob's been like hollerin' at me

(Mr. Flamboyant)

Demandin' that I define the definition of "Mr. Flamboyant"

Pertainin'  to me havin' inherited

The gift to spit, so I had to like let loose

Like that, well, you know that shit is good listenin', man?

But now, I want you to go back to that tune

You was doin' earlier in the song

You know that lil' tune you was doin'?

Oh, you mean this right here?

Yeah, I'm just a hustler on the go

Out here gettin' my propers, don't you know?

I'm livin' kind of comfortable, large mail and all

And a jealous fellas would love to see me fall

In Vallejo, California, Mr. Flamboyant

Oakland, Mr. Flamboyant

South San Francisco, flamboyant ('Frisco)

North Richmond, flamboyant (Like that)

East Palo Alto, Sacramento

Stockton, Pittsburgh, Reno (Oh, Reno?)

Seattle, Washington, LA

Bear with me if I stutter, I'm kind of twisted off Tanqueray

But never mind that, to the East Coast we go

Chi-Town, Chicago, the land of the snow

NYC, New York (The Big Apple)

Every town is down, folks be comin' up short

Detroit, Michigan, North Philly

Boise, Idaho, now, really

Homicide state, DC

Flamboyants don't care what it be costin' in Boston

All around the city of Atlanta, Georgia

The too live state, Miami, Florida

You don't wanna mess with Texas

Buffalo, Memphis or Kansas

'Boyants can be found in Alabama

New Orleans, Louisiana

I just got a page from The Click

Dank time, I gotta get

Yeah, hustler

Yeah, hustler

Yeah, hustler

Y-y-yeah, hustler

Yeah, hustler

Yeah, h-h-hustler

Yeah, hustler

Y-y-yeah, hustler

Hustler

Hustler

Hustler

Yeah, hustler

H-h-hustler