Teksty: Mystikal. Mind of Mystikal. That Nigga Ain't Shit!.
I woke up this morning dick rock hard had to piss so bad
That shit made me say God Lord, dick harder then a Armadillo
So I went in the bathroom and drained the little fellow
Flush the toilet, washed my hands, took off my silk shirt
And piss down my pants I was rolling to meet this
Bitch in 'bout an hour [Incomprehensible] and grabbed
And toweled and jumped my stankin' ass in the shower
And now I'm feelin' better at least I'm smellin' better instead
Of a combination of pussy and cheddar, I still smelled like
Last night's fuck, so washed my lips, fingertips
But I can't forget to wipe under the nuts, blow my nose
Wash my toes, then my asshole, foggin' up the mirrors
Never go wet all my fuckin' clothes, ain't that a bitch
I'm already runnin' late, thinkin' I ain't got to do nothin'
Now I gotta change my outfit stepped to the closet
And scanned the wardrobe seen that silk shirt, Tommy, fuck it
I'll wear that Polo though, Girbauds and Polo socks
Slipped on the Fila's 'cause it was too hot to bust the
Timbo high tops, I looked in the mirror one last time for kicks
Like I really had to check, like I ain't know I was the shit
Everything was in place, pearly whites, brown complexion
Daily braids and daily face, mirror, mirror, wasup?
Who's the most stuck up? I'm better than bitch
I just fucked that stankin' slut, that's the thought for the day
I'm 'bouts to cut that hoe she can't fuck anyways
Now I'm back on my mission, but before I hit the fuckin' front door
Gots to hit the kitchen 'cause all the banquet didn't
Is gettin' bigger man, I ain't ate shit dawg, hungrier than three niggas
Grits and oatmeal, no time to cook though, fuck it I'll grab
That left-over cold cut combo and now the stomachs at ease
I'm 'bout the jet, but first grab the beeper, the ring
They wanted the keys and now I'm ready for the street
Lookin' neat, smellin' sweet from my teeth to my fuckin' feet
I guess it's part of my job being colder then cold, smoother then smooth
Sharper then sharp, so if you catch my in the club don't say shit
Sweatin' a nigga like Micheal [Incomprehensible] Tyler don't pay bitch
'Cause I ain't that nigga that's gonna play with you or stay with you
But I'll damn sure lay with you 'cause I'm that type of nigga
To tell a bitch that I love 'em quick, better but not believe it
Though 'cause I ain't 'bout shit
That nigga ain't shit
That nigga ain't 'bout shit
That nigga ain't shit
That nigga ain't shit
That nigga ain't 'bout shit
Ain't shit
That shit made me say God Lord, dick harder then a Armadillo
So I went in the bathroom and drained the little fellow
Flush the toilet, washed my hands, took off my silk shirt
And piss down my pants I was rolling to meet this
Bitch in 'bout an hour [Incomprehensible] and grabbed
And toweled and jumped my stankin' ass in the shower
And now I'm feelin' better at least I'm smellin' better instead
Of a combination of pussy and cheddar, I still smelled like
Last night's fuck, so washed my lips, fingertips
But I can't forget to wipe under the nuts, blow my nose
Wash my toes, then my asshole, foggin' up the mirrors
Never go wet all my fuckin' clothes, ain't that a bitch
I'm already runnin' late, thinkin' I ain't got to do nothin'
Now I gotta change my outfit stepped to the closet
And scanned the wardrobe seen that silk shirt, Tommy, fuck it
I'll wear that Polo though, Girbauds and Polo socks
Slipped on the Fila's 'cause it was too hot to bust the
Timbo high tops, I looked in the mirror one last time for kicks
Like I really had to check, like I ain't know I was the shit
Everything was in place, pearly whites, brown complexion
Daily braids and daily face, mirror, mirror, wasup?
Who's the most stuck up? I'm better than bitch
I just fucked that stankin' slut, that's the thought for the day
I'm 'bouts to cut that hoe she can't fuck anyways
Now I'm back on my mission, but before I hit the fuckin' front door
Gots to hit the kitchen 'cause all the banquet didn't
Is gettin' bigger man, I ain't ate shit dawg, hungrier than three niggas
Grits and oatmeal, no time to cook though, fuck it I'll grab
That left-over cold cut combo and now the stomachs at ease
I'm 'bout the jet, but first grab the beeper, the ring
They wanted the keys and now I'm ready for the street
Lookin' neat, smellin' sweet from my teeth to my fuckin' feet
I guess it's part of my job being colder then cold, smoother then smooth
Sharper then sharp, so if you catch my in the club don't say shit
Sweatin' a nigga like Micheal [Incomprehensible] Tyler don't pay bitch
'Cause I ain't that nigga that's gonna play with you or stay with you
But I'll damn sure lay with you 'cause I'm that type of nigga
To tell a bitch that I love 'em quick, better but not believe it
Though 'cause I ain't 'bout shit
That nigga ain't shit
That nigga ain't 'bout shit
That nigga ain't shit
That nigga ain't shit
That nigga ain't 'bout shit
Ain't shit
Mind of Mystikal
Inni wykonawcy
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