Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Middle Man / Mr. Mister, artist - B.o.B.
Date of issue: 11.05.2017
Song language: English
Middle Man / Mr. Mister |
Nice than a motherfucker |
Than a motherfucker |
These days, niggas be polite than a motherfucker |
Nice than a motherfucker |
Smile in your face, I’m nice than a motherfucker |
Soon as they thought I fell off, niggas' true colors shine bright than a |
motherfucker |
Bright than a motherfucker |
They hate me 'til they meet me, then they hype than a motherfucker |
Hype than a motherfucker |
That’s cool, we was never cool anyway, huh, yeah |
That’s cool, we was never cool anyway |
Ice cube on the pinkie and the middle finger |
Lookin' like we won the Super Bowl anyway |
Eeh, eeh, fuck what you sayin' to me? |
You was just on my dick just 5 yesterdays |
Backstabber on your resumé |
Yee, yee, cappin' and you ain’t even got your rent paid |
I red the text, what that shit say? |
I guess I got a short attention span |
I learned it, get it straight from the source, fuck the middle man |
Huh, oh, you hating? |
Don’t be mad, don’t be salty, don’t be bitter, man |
I learned it, get it straight from the source, fuck the middle man |
Don’t got a middle man, middle man |
Nice than a motherfucker |
Than a motherfucker |
These days, niggas be polite than a motherfucker |
Nice than a motherfucker |
Smile in your face, I’m nice than a motherfucker |
Soon as they thought I fell off, niggas' true colors shine bright than a |
motherfucker |
Bright than a motherfucker |
They hate me 'til they meet me, then they hype than a motherfucker |
Hype than a motherfucker |
That’s cool, we was never cool anyway, huh, yeah |
That’s cool, we was never cool anyway |
Ice cube on the pinkie and the middle finger |
Lookin' like we won the Super Bowl anyway |
Huh, look, DJ’s say they support but they still phoney |
They don’t play my shit 'less I got Tip on it |
They don’t play your shit 'less there’s a diss on it |
Down to die for this shit, bet I live for it |
For this moment |
Had to vent so I hit up the big homie |
Niggas don’t even buy albums |
But niggas still do anything for a deal, homie |
Act like this shit don’t apply to you, huh |
Been in their game, look at how they do, huh |
Why do yes mans start off ever sentence |
With, «Dog, I wouldn’t lie to you»? |
Swag is so malleable, covered in valuables |
I done accomplished, start what I set out to do |
When we off the colors, not insurmountable |
Bankroll unaccountable, down at the phantom blue |
Bitches drinkin' Rosé like it’s Mountain Dew |
Guess what she’s down to do, roll up a pound or two |
Bruh, she already jiggin', ain’t no turnin' back |
I can no longer be held accountable |
Why you make all that nigga music? |
All you play is that nigga music |
Call it what you want |
But it ain’t an anthem 'til the strippers moving |
(But it ain’t an anthem 'til the strippers moving) |
I guess I got a short attention span |
I learned it, get it straight from the source, fuck the middle man |
Huh, oh, you hating? |
Don’t be mad, don’t be salty, don’t be bitter, man |
I learned it, get it straight from the source, fuck the middle man |
Don’t got a middle man, middle man |
I just put in work, she call me Mister |
Yeah, hey Mister |
Mr. Fourth Quarter, Mr. Make-It-Happen |
Mr. Clean, what’s the addy? |
Mr. I-Keep-Your-Bitch-Happy |
Mr. Cool, damn, that Mister cool, damn that Ice Cube |
Mr. Cow, Mr. Chow, Mr. Come-And-Get-Your-Food |
Mr. Bruce Leeroy when they come through |
Mr. Rude, Mr. Cutting School, finna bust a move |
Mr. T, Mr. Act-A-Fool, Mr. Break-The-Rules |
Mr. Told-You-I'd-Be-There-At-12-And-Ain't-Get-There-'Til-2 |
Mr. Thought-I-Was-Gon'-Take-Her-Home-But-Left-Her-In-The-Room |
Mr. Screws, Mr. Take-It-Off-Now-Bitch-Get-In-The-Pool |
Mr. Already-Made-It, you can’t come around |
Mr. Quiet, shh, bitch, don’t make a sound, yeah |
I just put in work, she call me Mister (hey Mister) |
Get it by the ground, call it Twista |
I’m so lazy, tell my hoe to get the picture |
Look, I’m straight up, she a margarita mixer |
Mister, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
I’m Mister, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
I ain’t never miss her, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
Mister, that Mister, Bobby Bands |
Mr. Long, Mr. Get-Her-Wrong, Mr. Sing-A-Song |
Hear the bong, Mr. Chichi Chong, Mr. In-My-Zone |
Mr. 2Pac Herringbone, on my collarbone |
Heat it on, Mr., Mr. Got-It-Going-On |
Master dome, black Power Ranger, I do not belong |
Mr. Outside-Of-The-Norm, hieroglyphic uniform |
Mr. Count-The-Rope, Mr. Fried-Rice-With-The-Prawns |
Mr. I-Mastered-The-Style, I’m just working on my form |
Mr. Solo Dolo, no, this ain’t no ride along |
Mr. Me-And-Basic-People-Somehow-Just-Don't-Get-Along |
I just brought a couple negros with me, please don’t be alarmed |
Mr. I-Guess-I-Overslept-And-Slept-Through-My-Alarm |
Mr. Rush, be rich, hit me up, I’m just waking up |
In the clutch, come through with the clutch, try me, you can touch |
Never blink, never lose no sleep, niggas huff and puff |
Claim they running up, who the fuck? |
And we see such and such |
I’m not you, I done paid my dues, I do this shit daily |
Mr., Mr. Lituation, Mr. Fuck-You-Pay-Me |
Mr. I-Might-Be-Here-Now, now I’m out in Vegas |
Mr. If-You-Ain't-With-The-Movement-Ain't-No-Conversation, preacher |
I just put in work, she call me Mister (hey Mister) |
Get it by the ground, call it Twista |
I’m so lazy, tell my hoe to get the picture |
Look, I’m straight up, she a margarita mixer |
Mister, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
I’m Mister, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
I ain’t never miss her, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
Mister, Bobby Bands |