Uh, skillz
Uh, Hi-Tek
Yea
VA yea, yo
Yo, trust me y`all don`t want none of me man
You wanna discuss that shit with your dog like the Son of Sam
If I, run out of hustles, then I`m runnin a scam
Spit some hot shit to you that`ll be numbin ya man
Uh huh, I know what y`all niggas thinkin now
He was on TV with Missy, so how the fuck he underground?
I rep my state from coast to coast
Don`t matter if I`m spittin with Nas or sippin with Mos
I`m explainin shit to y`all geeks
I fucks with Timbaland cuz Timbaland got beats!
And after Ghostwriter came out
Y`all was bitchin and cryin, cuz I ain`t put the names out
Y`all still thinkin I was frontin
And Puff cut a check so I ain`t have to say nothin *Nah*
These rap cats is fakin
I`m jumpin in front of you and takin yours like a Secret Service agent
Come on
[Chorus] (x2)
y`all don`t wanna do that, mmm mmm
Y`all don`t wanna do that, uh uh
You don`t really wanna do that, mmm mmm
Dog, you don`t wanna do that, uh uh
Yo, you know what hurts me even more? *What?*
Male groupies when you out on tour *For real*
Man, I thought I was gon flip
Dude passed the tape under the stall and I`m tryin to take a shit!
Man, this drama gotta stop
Them the fools that you gotta watch
Keep your tape, don`t do me no favors
Cuz when I tell you the truth, you gon call me a hater
And chicks I came up with
Be gettin mad cuz they can`t get hit
They be like, That nigga Skillz ain`t shit!
Huh, but you just spent some bills, to give Skills the shit, didn`t you?
Mmm hmm
That`s funny
These broads ain`t stoppin my money *Uh uh*
So if you manage to get close to me
Think about what you gon say boo before approaching me
Cuz see,
Chorus (x2)
I rip mics til they torn
When I walk, they think there`s a strobe light on
In ciphers I be straight up attacking
Cats be like, You ripped that shit nigga!
Calm down, I was practicin
Man y`all gotta be kiddin
I got your CD, I did a lotta skippin like,
When I see you, you gon do a lotta bitchin
While I`m on stage, spittin with a lotta niggas ad-libbin
Man, y`all need to kill that
I`m from B.A. nigga, where`s it`s goddamn real at
Tracks I feel that
And leave curfew(?) the streets
So if you haters suckin yo teeth, then do it on beat
Come on *teeth sucking*
I ain`t new with the heat
I`m in the booth with the flu and still chewin the beat
I`m sonnin y`all like Father`s Day
Disrespect Pop and get popped like Marvin Gaye
Cuz see
Chorus (x4)
Skillz, B.A., Supafriendz
