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misterelle - suffering succotash lyrics

bah-bah-bah, bahbahbahbahbah-bah
bah-bah-bah, bahbahbahbahbaaahhh [2x]

[verse 1: misterelle]
my cousin wanted me to spit, so suffering succotash
sucker–ss motherf-ckers can suffer from mustard gas
smothered in mustard, i cut the mustard, they must’ve ran
only to p-ss muster, i mustered up muttered rants
mussed a muddle, of the mummery mumbled fast
uttered utterly rubbish with ruffians running mad
wasn’t grand as ten hundreds, my mother’s dad
or an 88-key piano, this number’s for son of sam
punch them like clubber lang, while punching a punching bag
punches in bunches, i double up on the jab
shuffle shuffle then studder, duh duh duh man
huddle up then scream hut hut and underhand
or maybe hum it straight to your stomach, your thumb’ll jam
one my cousins blast, if you’re lucky the gun’ll jam
they ask whaddup? you wanna dance? do the “hustle”, the “running man”
or something, you start something? it’s gonna’be something bad

[hook: misterelle]

’cause we’ve been through this many a day, many a night
think it’s time i start hitting this j, gimme a light
gimme a light
many a day, many a night
we’ve been through this many a day, many a night
think it’s time i start hitting the hay, hit the lights
lights, lights
hit the lights
steady mobbing like
bah-bah-bah, bahbahbahbahbah-bah
bah-bah-bah, bahbahbahbahbaaahhh

[verse 2: misterelle]
my cousin said to spit again, so suffering succotash
sucker–ss motherf-ckers! and mama said cut the gr-ss
and told me “tell the others to stick their thumb up in someone’s -ss”
because they’re clearing under the thumb of the upper-cl-ss
this southern “swag” hustle they shove into duffle bags
either pump an illegal substance or struggle, it’s such a drag
call that “crabs in a bucket” a bunch of crabs
trying to keep the beef from taking me under like krusty krab
which leads to enc-mber, by dumbing down what i am
because becoming rap’s second-coming was up for grabs
though unbecoming, becoming what they could grasp
would not only get me ducats, but bubble-b-tt undergrads
drunken and puffing hash, f-cking and cutting cl-ss
teachers said “he wouldn’t amount to nothing”, plus flunking math
no troggle trouble math could sum up he doesn’t have
gave a f-ck about circ-mference or numbers that wasn’t cash
i need something for uncle sam
or your aunties and uncles last found cut up, no muscle m-ss
“cause we’ve been through that many a day, many a night

[hook]

- misterelle lyrics

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