or
Mystikal



You would if you could

But you can't

So you ain't



The minute I step in dis bitch

I hear Oh shit Mothafucka God Damn!

Watch out for dat nigga

You can't handle em

For a period of time

no one can match those rhymes to mine

I'm top of the line

Prickin your ass like a porcupine

I know what to do to knock your stupid ass so bad It ain't no challenge!

This ain't no mothafuckin fluke, This pure deep talent!

I'm Gifted, Explicit mistressed and Explicit

Brand new home, same old nigga

I ain't playin with you bitches!

Why you niggaz be rappin

Like your scared and unprepared

I'm gonn have ya leave this mothafucka sayin Whatd that mothafucka said?

Gimme the bud, the weed I puff like elvis and the beetles

That gets blazed, then a couple soft MC's on pins and needles

Niggaz that got beef wit me

Better bring a heater

or either bow down to me

Cut off you dick, jesus

that's the reason I'm fuckin wit niggaz

Wasup wit dem niggaz dats talkin shit

You better go fuck wit anotha nigga

You can't handle this!



Oh shit, Motha Fucka! God Damn! x8



Certified rhyme busta

Bitch Nigga, Bitch nigga

Same nigga, If I'm not that nigga

but that nigga from punks, still come with the rif raf

went from Gold diggin, ta gold chains

I went from Club Train, Ta Soul Train!

fightin like a wild coyote

Like capone, hot seller

Keep your fuckin deck deader, then a bad woodpecker

I don't like niggaz tryin ta run up on my shit and set

I'm the tarantula on the catipillar, Bitch ill kill ya

Catch more attention, then oriental peacocks

Phat rhymes, Hot tracks, A full room of rebocks

I've got the gift that'll make a Bitch get off me

spent like charles barkley

So bitch don't start me!

who's that click?

use to be mobbin in my hood

Beware! Here I go!

get that boy good

Come like, there I was

When were y'all idiots in the cut?

i raise the hacksaw, you jump back

Now y'all niggaz don't want no trouble, can't stop us





I know ya'll nigga know better than to fuck wit tha man

don't ya (dont ya)

Nigga don't you know what my style can't be poached

and every nigga around, probably got beef wit somebody

But that's the same nigga between the fighters

I ain't got it (i ain't got it)

When underground rules, will be tha day

My legs start to shake

another nigga couldnt off throw me on skates!

I'm the supplier

The gasoline on your fire, Got em dodge em

Michael Tyler! The drunken fighter

y'all Niggaz can't do what I do!

(man fuck that nigga)

Naw Motherfuck you!

Good lord, the rhymes come through so hardcore

Bitch I got it if you bad enuff to take it

Its yours!

A lyrical ass whoopin

Is what I'm cookin

Hungry, Spittin all over your room when you wasn't lookin

ain't no canibus, the wrong nigga with ta mess

You get tha flatback like rambo Bitch

YOu can't handle this!

(11 times)

Written by BAZILE, CRAIG / TYLER, MICHAEL
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.