| Hey yo, Dog man what’s up with that, man?
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| Brothers out here say you ain’t got no metaphor
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| What’s up with that shit man?
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| Yo, you better flow man
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| I want to hear them funky rhymes you fucking got
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| Word, G
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| Go for yours
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| Suffering succotash
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| I’ll harass and whip another rapper’s ass fast
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| If he try to get past
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| My hard core rhythm addict, words of metaphor
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| My rhymes are better for, so go ahead and let it pour
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| You be waiting for a rapper just like me
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| Tim Dog, D-O-G
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| So get up, sit down, matter of fact, step off
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| Your soft, your just like a cold with a cough
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| You need to be cured and re-insured
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| And what you may seem to be
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| But let’s see
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| Forget it punk, you’re just dying
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| If you don’t have the talent, there’s no sense in trying
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| Try and defeat me, can’t compete with me
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| Cheat me, treat me bad or just damn beat me
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| But it won’t work
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| The Dog is no joke
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| All your ideas are up in smoke
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| It’s realistic, to bad you missed it
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| Somethings in my pants, jumping down and kiss it
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| Call me your papa, daddy, honorable father
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| But diss Tim Dog, why bother?
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| Roll the dice, cracked, hot damn
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| I’m not who you think I am
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| I don’t need a cane, cause I don’t limp
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| Tim Dog’s a pimp and not a wimp
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| He’s a subject matter without the chit chatter
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| You’re looking at a brother that’s badder
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| To manifest, guess the rest at best
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| Put up a test, yes and watch a sucker ass 'fess
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| I’m the man and all girls love me
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| Fuck around, will try to be above me
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| You want to play me like I ought to be taught?
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| Remember, I ain’t taking no shorts
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| I’m gonna get mine and you get yours
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| And just cause you’re girl want to give me some drawers
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| Don’t get mad and try to give me some static
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| My posse is thick and automatic
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| What I got bringing up the force
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| My brother L-King leading of the source
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| And Ced Gee with a nine in hand
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| The suckers out there don’t understand
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| Yo, that I committed, rhymes get with it
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| Suckers try to get it, but they can fit it
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| I flow like a river, rhymes I deliver, make emcees shiver
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| Who, who, who, and I give ya
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| A devastating rhyme that is good to go
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| Fuck with the Dog, you just don’t know
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| I crush and must, I bust the fuss, disgust to hust
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| Think you’re better than Dog you’re on dust
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| Ballistic, mystic, gifted, twisted, shifted, lifted
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| Slop ya like I’m serving a biscuit
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| I’ll cruise right by you, playa
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| And I’ll return like a son of a Jedi
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| You get smashed and crashed in a flash
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| Boom, bash, you know that ass won’t last
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| Super superb, mass hysteria, worry a harrier
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| My rhymes deliver you like a messenger carrier
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| Double ya and start scheme and beam and redeem
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| A technique to mixes, I’m creaming
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| Motivate and ill innovate, participate
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| Goddamn, it’s time to eliminate
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| Coo-coo for Cocoa puffs, eat your Rice Krispies
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| Turn to the Hulk for my man Bill Bixby
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| Flame on, turn into the Human Torch
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| Scorch, drinking lemonade on a porch
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| Trust in God, you’re not hard
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| Get a body guard, I’ll pull a card
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| And faking niggas get scarred
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around
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| You can’t fuck around |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Can't Fuck Around , by - Tim Dog. Song from the album Greatest Hits, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп