Lyrics Original - Mystikal, Birdman, Lil Wayne

Original

I’m a political refugee
Thats how the fuck I felt
Birds for the summer
Hummers for the runners
Candy on the paint
9 for the thunder
Throw a couple hundreds
Fishing on a fishtail
With big money shit, cash money errwhere
High roller, shot caller, big boss
Original, real nigga from the start
Head huntin', price on a nigga tab
Hit ‘em up, for playing with a nigga male
Niggas say I’m better than Beethoven
To the beat that I rap over
Stay outta that medicine cabinet
Yeah, thats what they told me
They giving us piss test, cause we stay rollin'
And know a nigga act better than a .45 caliber pistol when they loaded
They penalize us, tryna slow us down
They constantly fucking us up
Thats why we’re buck wild
Call me porch monkey, call me jigaboo
When you know you wanna fuck my woman and eat my barbeque
How the fuck you gon' watch my house
But don’t wanna live on my street
The ape man told Tarzan «how the fuck you better than me?»
Rap I run that rock, and got a jump shot
Who we got wife, up in that white house
I took a look and didn’t sell out
I was in the building and didn’t bail out
Hoping muthafucker didn’t fail out
Back to the top from the jail house
Nigga, lace ‘em up, tie ya shoe
Catch a cut, we know what pressure do
Who out c’here fucking with me, huh?
tell me that
I’m bout to drop that shit, where my pamper at?
Try to answer that, or give me my mantle back
I bury you cockroaches, shoulda left me where I was at
You dun made that fucking bed
You dun built this fucking castle
Buck wheat and his friend alfalfa, can’t do nothing with this little rascal
Yeah nigga what the hell
Talking baby business, yeah
Don’t be fucking with me
Cause you wont get off easy
I feel just like Drew Brees
When they kick off football season
How I cut the ref, you can’t stop it from bleeding
Rappers betta leave me ‘lone
if they gon' keep on breathing
Now keep on starving and I’mma gonna keep on eating
And you keep on sucking, and I’mma keep on skeeting
You gon be the one bussing or be the one fleeing
You better keep on trucking
Ain’t no muthafucker trouble this evening
Uh, ain’t it crazy how shit be
Thats why I flush it
I got the Tommy gun with the drum
Thats percussion
I just popped a couple pain pills, self destruction
I made something out of nothing, thanks for nothing
I pistol whip ya bitch, knock her out Robitussin
Ran up in your house, killed everybody, no discussion
Rep, that muthafucking red flag like a Russian
Yeah, look, I told her baby I’m a thrash her
We kissed, I lit her ass up then I ashed her
No hard feelings, no car dealing, but I shuffle my queen
Duffle bag too heavy to carry to the car
My Mary in a jar
I’m food, I let the haters add a little salt
Thats cool, I do it for all the niggas that try
And all the bitches I’ve fucked, and all my niggas that died
Tunechi