HE DIDN’T MEAN FOR IT TO COME OUT THAT WAY.
“You have to earn your way, every day, or you don’t play,” Mangino said. “I didn’t mean for it to rhyme but it came out that way.”-Kansas coach Mark Mangino in the University Daily Kansan.
You have to earn your way
Every single day
You have to earn your way
Or homie you don’t play
Big Mac with the mack suit
Stunnin’ in the track suit
Cash money got the honeys
On my personal jack-fruit
Four bills on the scale
Still sippin’ Champale
Trick bitches get crushed
Snort ‘em up like they fat rails
Might think we droppin’ retro
cause we rock the velour
Might think we frontin’ classy
‘Cause we rock the couture
But we street to the nines
Don’t be fooled by the shine
Chewin’ ass on the sideline
Like we was 0-9
The Marky M’s the lawya pimp who brought the fuckin’ gravy
The Marky M’s the one who’s givin’ all these ladies babies
The Marky M’s the one who’s breakin’ all the lawya’s beds
The Marky M’s the one who’s gettin’ all the crazy head
You can’t stop me, gump
Only hope to contain
You know I bring the mayo
Like I’m bringing the pain
So step fast, playa, them looks is deceivin’
Marky M made it on these streets with straight thievin’
Like Andre Berto, laywa I’ll have you bobbin’ and weavin’
Like epilepsy I’ll have ya straight fuckin’ seizin’
Like butter toast, I’ll spread you and burn you up
Like Sonic cheesecake bites, I’ll straight turn you up
Like my realtor, I’ll call ya and straight learn ya up
Like your daddy, I’ll pin ya, give ya straight buttercups
I’ll eat your hope, and then I’m gonna eat you
Gimme the club and I’ll eat your fuckin’ crew too
Get the party pumpin’, screamin’ Gasolina!
Let’s wreck some shit like we was Hurricane Katrina
Then we roll to the crib where I keep my cheese
Get you mayonnaised up and keep ya weak in the knees
Then we go to the tub and we hit them trees
Got enough for the hungry and we eager to please
In the morning you know ho go to go
Got to hit that film session with the cookie dough
KU don’t sleep, and we at it again
Marky M, thrill to kill, Jayhawkin’ again-WHAT!
[outro]
WOO!!! Can’t front on that, lawya
This has been the indomitable Marky M.
You lawyas best mix your mayonnaise and ketchup
Cause we bringin’ them spicy fries for that ass.
For the 785…I see ya…
Chase Daniel…batter-fried chump-ass pizza lawya…I see you, too.
Lawya Todd Reesing: respek…
We out…
10
Orson at his finest again. Only here can you have epilepsy and butter toast referenced in adjoining lyrics.
You know someone in Lawrence will make a t-shirt made or start a chant that references this song.
Comment by Geaux Irish — September 25, 2025 @ 12:47 pm
9
Much better written than this.
Comment by hoopinion — September 25, 2025 @ 12:46 pm
8
Turkey bling AND an Andre Berto shoutout?
Best shit evar.
Comment by Unsilent Majority — September 25, 2025 @ 12:43 pm
7
Wow!
With a boxing reference to boot. Friday night fights being the other show (gameday) ESPN has not F—ed up.
Well, I suppose it aint real gangsta if you dont reference a fighter.
Comment by tzubear — September 25, 2025 @ 12:41 pm
6
The way Orson’s mind works… innovative and yet terrifying.
Comment by blon — September 25, 2025 @ 12:40 pm
5
[is struck dead]
Comment by Holly — September 25, 2025 @ 12:39 pm
4
Man, that shit was the stone ground mustard, lawya.
Comment by Allahver Fist — September 25, 2025 @ 12:37 pm
3
“You know I bring the mayo
Like I’m bringing the pain . . . ”
It’s so . . . beautiful.
*sniff*
Comment by The Song of Hiawatha Francisco — September 25, 2025 @ 12:37 pm
2
He loves it when they call him Big Poppa.
Comment by sonofsamford — September 25, 2025 @ 12:34 pm
1
Amazing. Simply Amazing. Some of your best work yet, Swindle.
Comment by RaginCajunRebel — September 25, 2025 @ 12:34 pm