Mystikal

Mystikal - U Can'T Handle This lyrics

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You would if you could

But you can't 

So you ain't







The minute I step in dis bitch

I hear Oh shit Mothafucka, God Damn!

Watch out for dat nigga

You cant handle em

For a period of time 

Noone can match those rhymes to mine

Im top of the line

Prickin your ass like a porcupine

I know what to do to knock your stupid ass so bad It aint no challenge!

This aint no mothafuckin fluke, This pure deep talent!

Im Gifted, Explicit mistressed and Explicit

Brand new home, same old nigga 

I aint playin with you bitches!

Why you niggaz be rappin

Like your scared and unprepared

Im gonn have ya leave this mothafucka sayin Whatd that mothafucka said?

Gimme the bud, the weed I puff like elvis and the beetles

That gets blazed, then a couple soft MC's on pins and needles

Niggaz that got beef wit me 

Better bring a heater

or either bow down to me 

Cut off you dick, jesus

Thats the reason Im fuckin wit niggaz

Wasup wit dem niggaz dats talkin shit

You better go fuck wit anotha nigga

You cant handle this!





Oh shit, Motha Fucka! God Damn! 





Certified rhyme busta 

Bitch Nigga, Bitch nigga

Same nigga, If Im not that nigga 

but that nigga from punks, still come with the rif raf

went from Gold diggin, ta gold chains

I went from Club Train, Ta Soul Train!

fightin like a wild coyote

Like capone, hot seller

Keep your fuckin deck deader, then a bad woodpecker

I dont like niggaz tryin ta run up on my shit and set

Im the tarantula on the catipillar, Bitch ill kill ya

Catch more attention, then oriental peacocks

Phat rhymes, Hot tracks, A full room of rebocks

Ive got the gift thatll make a Bitch get off me

spent like charles barkley 

So bitch Dont start me!

Whos that click?

use to be mobbin in my hood

Beware! Here I go!

get that boy good

Come like, there I was

When were yall idiots in the cut?

i raise the hacksaw, you jump back

Now yall niggaz dont want no trouble, Cant stop us









I know ya'll nigga know better than to fuck wit tha man

Dont ya (dont ya)

Nigga dont you know what my style cant be poached

and every nigga around, probably got beef wit somebody

But thats the same nigga between the fighters

I aint got it (i aint got it)

When underground rules, will be tha day 

My legs start to shake

another nigga couldnt off throw me on skates!

Im the supplier

The gasoline on your fire, Got em dodge em

Michael Tyler! The drunken fighter

Yall Niggaz cant do what I do!

(man fuck that nigga)

Naw Motherfuck you!

Good lord, the rhymes come through so hardcore

Bitch I got it if you bad enuff to take it

Its yours!

A lyrical ass whoopin 

Is what im cookin

Hungry, Spittin all over your room when you wasnt lookin

Aint no canibus, the wrong nigga with ta mess

You get tha flatback like rambo Bitch

YOu cant handle this!
Get this song at:
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Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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