Feel So Good Lyrics by Mase

Feel So Good Lyrics

    You ready mase?

    Party people
    In the place to be (uh huh)
    It's about that time
    For us to (yeah, uh huh)

    Yo, what you know about goin' out
    Head west, red lex, tv's all up in the headrest
    Try and live it up
    Ride true, a bigger truck
    Peeps all glittered up
    Stick up can, they go what?
    Jig wit it cuz ship crisp, split it all
    Ho's ride, get your nut 'till i can't get it up
    I'm a big man, give this man room
    I'd a hit everything, from cancun to grant's tomb
    Why you standin' on the wall?
    Hand on your balls
    Lighting up drugs always fightin' in the club
    I'm the reason they made the dress code
    They figure i wouldn't wild when i'm in my french clothes
    Dress as i suppose, from my neck to my toes
    Neck full of gold, baguettes in my rolls
    Wreck shows, collect those, extra o's
    Buy the e, get a key, to the lex to hold
    East, west, every state, come on, bury the hate
    Millions, the only thing we in a hurry to make
    Are the friend that act's friend in a lex or a benz
    Let's begin, bring this bs to an end
    Come on

    1 - bad, bad, bad, bad boy
    You make me feel so good
    You know you make me feel so good
    You know you make me feel so good

    Bad, bad, bad, bad boy
    I wouldn't change you if i could
    I wouldn't change you if i could
    I wouldn't change you if i could

    Ah ah
    You can't understand we be waikiki
    Sippin' dp to the tv, look greedy
    Little kids see me, way out in dc
    With a z3, chrome vb's, they wanna be me
    Nigga's talkin' shit they ought to quit
    I'm fortunate they don't see a fourth what i get
    And those be the same ones walkin' while i whip
    Just stylishing cars cuz they all true nig'
    So while you daydream my mercedes gleam
    And i deal with ho's that pose in maybeline
    One time you had it all i ain't mad at ya'll
    Now give me the catalog, i'll show you how daddy bought
    Six cars and power to fire big stars
    Sit up, ceo style, smokin' on cigars, nigga
    It's like ya'll be talkin' funny
    I don't understand language of people with short money
    Come on

    Repeat 1

    Ah ah
    Do mase got the ladies?
    Do puff drive mercedes?
    Take hits from the 80's?
    But do it sound so crazy?

    Well me personally, it's nothin' personal
    I do what work for me, you do what work for you
    And i dress with what i was blessed with
    Never been arrested for nothin' domestic
    And i chill the way you met me
    With a jet ski attached to a se
    Smoke my nestle, no mad rap-ass cat
    Where my check be?
    Problem with ya'll i say it directly
    Went from hard to sweet, starved to eat
    From no hoes at shows to menage in suites
    Now i be the cat that be hard to meet
    Gettin' head from girls
    That used to hardly speak
    Come on

    Repeat 1 until fade

    Mase
    Harlem world
    Bad boy
    Goodfellaz baby
    Yeah
    And we won't stop
    Cuz we can't stop
    Mason betha
    Yeah
    Owwwww, come on

SEARCH LYRICS