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ras kass - i ain't fuckin' with you lyrics

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[intro]
what, n-gga, you got problems
n-gga you don’t want no problems with me, sh-t
n-gga you ain’t got enough calcium to have a bone to pick
you little b-tch -ss n-gga, n-ggas be hovering
n-ggas be bothering you
i ain’t f-ckin’ with y’all
i ain’t f-ckin with you
i guess i got a bad att-tude

[verse 1]
i spit sl!ck sh-t like k-y jelly
out for the mel like melle
i’m f-cking you tonight before r. kelly
my b-tches dance with their belly
and f-ck me with their eyes
see crime is rarely organized
in the land of the blind, the one eyed is genie
a male chauvinist keep them barefoot in a two piece bikini
need a bulletproof beenie when n-ggas got five minutes of funk
make them disappear like houdini
and whodunnit – a hood riddah
got old folks scared just to go outside on their front porch
and all this bullsh-t is going on in church of course
(but but but but but wait it gets worse)
i could instill a semi-automatic verse
and draw blood like a nurse
correspond like a kite in prison
on the mic i bomb like nuclear fission
alphabetic mathematician
your prerogative is my decision
my litigation gives me a reputation
for giving n-ggas no get back like black reparations
you’re doing too much (why?)
cause i’m going to be rich n-gga i put that on my two nuts

[refrain]
i ain’t f-ckin’ with you you’re not to be f-cked with
(big n-gga i thought you knew)
365 this n-ggas mood is rude
but i know the cause of your sh-tty att-tude

[verse 2]
now whenever i’m fed up, we can go head up
my ex-b-tch called me a dog so i p-ss with one leg up
straight up and down three hundred and sixty-five rounds
one in the chamber for leap year, keep clear
i get my hands dirty like a sanitation worker, so “what’s beef?”
beef is that meat inside a hamburger
in man-murder, i stand further apart
and beat more rappers than dr. dre, mo bee, diamond d, and mark sparks
the quintessential microphonist
smoke the 50 thousand dollar bonus
swarming your green like locust
your vegetation was supposed to be edumacation
left a n-gga feeling like he’s stranded in serbia and he’s the only croatians
no relation that’s my justification for ripping n-ggas
stripping n-ggas bigga figgas
dippin’ strippers in the first king; in the cut like scissors
shoot her to the tilt and long d-ck her
bang her to the point of exhaustion truly
i ride her like that “pony” song and flip her like the dolphin movie
listen no -n-l s-x and no kissing
doggystyles my favorite position
insisting that you grab your ankles and lay face down b-tch
play like cuss words on the radio and turn that -ss around
i puts it down like daly though, it’s all gravy though
priority records got to pay me though but

[refrain]

[verse 3]
now when it’s on, then it’s on; no shame in my game
cowards wouldn’t bust a grape if their name was champagne!
i change lanes on dirtbikes
and change direction at the speed of light
i use my feet to catch the dice
n-ggas gamble everyday anyway
paying the price of life, k!ll a fifth of e&j every night
got every right to be impolite. i’ve been mad
so how the f-ck i’m supposed to keep my act clean like sinbad
see white people burn your church
the see you in the mall and clutch their purse
treat a n-gga like dirt when the black man was here first
that’s why i be on one officially
f-ck white people in general and f-ck the police specifically
you got at me, but you’re missing me sideways
son, i’m giving rappers a curfew like i gave birth to you
don’t be calling them sh-t shades, when you know that it’s curtains for you
i’m certain i’m hurting a few egos: toni montana’s a nino
stompin’ with the big dog tino, see though
i’ll pull your card and get your chips, like pokeno
from yugoslavia to reno, yeah homie we know

[refrain x3]



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