Joey Cool, Mac Lethal, Info Gates - F.Y.I. lyrics

Due to some violent content
Parental discretion is advised

Look, for your information
Swanky S is on vacation fuck up out my face
With these petty allegations
Yeah I drink Jack (but) all in moderation
Nectar of the Gods
It's not an acquired taste
It's that camel smokin'
Flash totin' smooth nigga
With the entourage surroundin'? now
Who's with ya?
See I don't feel that comfortable shit
Where my moods with ya
So I just go in silence
While takin' a few pictures
Mobbin' out yellin DIBKIS
Me and Info shootin' Jameson
On you dipshit's me and? on the hunt
Like "where the bitches?"
Girl, we tryna do a dump, shit, take a diznik
Yo my momma prolly kill me if she
Hear me objectifyin' these hoes again
My daughter's mother gon be like "man
Here we go again holy fucking canolis, Joey
You said a little much"
In my opinion, I ain't said enough
Like I give a fuck now can I get a amen
From the congregation?
We in this bitch, champagne sippin'
Whiskey chasin'
Doin' drugs? with my delegation
Fuck you if you hatin', for your information
We in this motherfucker, that's a situation
Everybody get lit, it's a celebration
Hoe, don't act like you don't know
We about to break shit
We ain't for the fake shit
For your information

For your information, I'm on probation
So I ain't bout to rush into
Punchin' your fuckin' face in
Cause you're hatin'
But ain't shit gettin' taken away
You think you're Liam Neeson? You're facing
The wolves in the grey what a conundrum
To any rapper thinkin' that he want some
Pull up with stun guns and
Resemble the Duck Hunt ones
And stick 'em in your sternum
For little Stephanie's trust fund
You run your mouth from the
Same people you run from
What up with it? Come up
With shit you're fuckin' with
If not, you're probably huffin' whip
Got told you're suckin' dick
And puffin' rock, i had a few broads with
Curves like Nicki Minaj
Give me their drawers
You ain't got to give me applause
No need for thank yous
It's just what Swank do

So what's gouda? If it ain't guap
It's Buddha
I'm picky for women that pop a pussy
She went bazooka can I get a amen
From the congregation?
We in this bitch, champagne sippin'
Whiskey chasin'
Doin' drugs? with my delegation
Fuck you if you hatin', for your information
We in this motherfucker, that's a situation
Everybody get lit, it's a celebration
Hoe, don't act like you don't know
We about to break shit
We ain't for the fake shit
For your information

I just put my kids to bed
And did a bump of coke
It didn't get me high, it must be fake
It must be soap a lot of Kansas City rappers
That is fuckin' broke, but not me
Because I'm beautiful and fuckin' dope
Let's be honest, I'm a rare man
I can rap my ass off and snap
Your fuckin' neck with my bare hands
Lock me in a coffin
Chains twisted on my hands
I'll escape like Houdini and blow a
Kiss to all my fans
My girl wants some money so I should
Tell her "Drop to your knees
And suck my dick in the
Kitchen like we in GoodFellas"
You got me hot, girl
I'm breathin' hella fire
But here's another reason to admire
Everytime I'm in the city, you hear singers
You hear choirs
You can come to my mansion and we
Can watch every season of The Wire

What do you mean you've never seen The Wire?
Get the fuck out of my house

Girl, fuck that!
Where you goin', baby? Come back
I just wanna count the fuckin'
Spokes on your hubcaps
You can be 22 or be 52 like
The chick in "The Love Shack"
And Imma fuck your mouth
I know you love that
I want a girl with her face all pretty
That wants to watch baseball with me
That hates the Oakland A's
And hates Fox News and she loves KC
It's such a great small city
I can make calls quickly
And get a couple goons over here
Is the shit brown in the fuckin' spoon? No
It's clear bitch, you dealing with the
Lethal type of dosage my face is beautiful
You know they keep it on the postage
Joey sent the beat
A fuckin' heater full of dopeness
I slipped into a motherfuckin'
Feelin' of psychosis i'm blacked out
Battery acid is comin' out of Mac's mouth
Bitch, tell me what that rap's bout
It's an FYI: It's For Your Information
I may be dressed like a doctor
But I am just a patient
I'm an inmate, taking the asylum over
I bite your motherfuckin' face up
Like a violent cobra
So here's the verse Joey gift wrapped
We killin' shit until Dutch Newman
Gets his kids back
Every other motherfuckin' rappers
Gettin' bitch slapped
Well bitch, give me my
Motherfuckin' dick, it's witchcraft, i'm-

O-o-o-o, the beat stopped, ooooooo
I had more too!