Y'All Don't Wanna

Mad Skillz

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    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

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    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

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Cottrell Tony Louis y Mad Skillz

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