Yea

(NYC)

1..2... big ups to NYC

And the whole country

BIG MACK

Uh

Flava to buss it

Style like this boy , haaa

Check it

[Verse]

It go a tisket a tasket, melt you like you plastic

Non-stop rockin' put MC's in a casket

Wake up 'cause its a brand new (what)

World and I will continue (to what)

To be the best at, hittin' where you rest at

The mic let me test that, with honey-coated chit chat

'cause if that, you think

(uhh, one, two)

I walk around like my style don't stink

And to all the broads I might take home, there's a limo outside with the driver on the phone

Stand alone, live from NYC

Got the lock on rap, and my rhymes are the key

Next to me, none of y'all come close

Rock til' broad daylight with the Mack as your host

It go non-stop rockin' is the fat funk flav

Boy I'll put you in the grave

And i'mma do it with style...

[Chorus]

I drive Rolls and a Yacht off of flava I got

Who boiling hot, sure shot, whether you like it or not

And if you look my brother then you will see

That Craig Mack's going down in history

I got style what you want, style, what you need, and i got style

What ya want and check it , check it , what ya need

[Verse]

Well here comes da man with the mic i command

Radio's black monster similiar to Rodan

I groove from east to west, it ain't nuthin'

Keep the funk locked like police hand cuffin'

Top notch from here to Okinawa

My belly all fat from MC's i devour

Mayday, you better radio the tower

'cause the plane you ridin' in just ran out of power

Style

My claim to fame, I was born for the mic I even use my real name

Mack, Haaa , what it be like brother, as you could look around and see there ain't no other

Sasquatch steppin' , deadly weapon, rock da microphone since the age of 11

Like Andretti and my engine is revvin' , brother you's about to die but I hope you go to heaven, rockin' you MC's times up

My rhymes are water that will fit inside ya favorite cup

Dante's peak of rap that's about to erupt

You probably feel it in your gut but

I'm a do it with style.....

[Chorus]

I don't talk to MC's its a waste of my time

I'd rather see em' on a fat ass rhyme

It's like a cement truck the way I hit

MC's on the mic talk that same old shit

I'm debonair with flare, good friends of the mayor

Funk coming down like Foxy Brown's hair

For style like this you can't find everywhere

I rock a stadium with hands in the air, from sea to shining sea

I be, the Mackalicious funk flav rock the country

Got more gators than Crocodile Dundee

And you can see my name on the grand marquee

It go funk original Mack the flava man

And where your style go into the garbage can

I be the president if I ran, but I choose to use the microphone to take command

And I'm smooth as the Nile, with ya name on file

Fly rhymes sayer ben this way since a child

I'll be ya man on the FM dial

The Mack will last a while, (word up)

And I'mma do it with style.....

[Chorus]

I drive Rolls and a Yacht off of flava I got

Who boiling hot, sure shot, whether you like it or not

And if you look my brother then you will see

That Craig Mack's going down in history

I got style..(what ya want..& i got style...It's what ya need...&)

From the North

To the South

To the East

To the West

Guaranteed to rock you cause the Mack is the Best

I got style

I drive Rolls and a Yacht off of flava I got

Who boiling hot, sure shot, whether you like it or not

And if you look my brother then you will see

That Craig Mack's going down in history

I got style

Its what you want &

(style) its what you need &

(style) its what you want &

Cause its the Mackalicious Funk Flav

It go ,Style