I Ain’t The One To Fuc Wit

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Scram Jones] I get a kick, a hat, then a slap, a snare Keep a chick on my lap like it's Santa's chair Give you daps, hit the lats, drop the chandelier Spit a New York rap, but breathe Cali air Rub my rabbit foot, prayed on rabbit ears Smokin carrot cake kush, cuttin' out of cannabis Jumpin in the ring, before the ding, you hear (The Champ is Here!) Then I give you two black eyes (Panda Bear) It's all about Stunt, Blunts and Hip Hop Stuff drugs in Ziploc Some plug like Kid Rock The Kid Rocker, the hit shock of hip hop Made a pit stop at Gridlock, grabbed a record from the thrift shop (Gimme that!) Diggin in the Crates, DITC With two turntables before my MPC Now I flip the script, yeah this DJ spit And I write my own rhymes (Produce my own shit) [Chorus: Scratches] I...I..I..I..I...I.. I ain't the one to fuc wit (Word) I...I..I..I..I...I.. I ain't the one to fuc wit (Word) I...I..I..I..I...I.. I ain't the one to fuc wit (Word) Write my own rhymes Produce my own shit Yeah boy, I ain't the one to fuc wit [Verse 2: Diamond D] Uh, we don't quit Ain't a place in this rap shit we don't sit I don't fuck around with clowns, we don't grit Oysters, clams, steaks, Guido shit Move in silence, incognito shit Lil' man, I don't dance on front street I left a clown missing front teeth, who want beef? Blow smoke in your face from the blunt leaf (Aww!) Niggas wanna burn me bad But a bunch of mannequins don't concern me, dad Frontin' only goin' leave you on the gurney lad Fucking with the wrong cat, Ernie Ladd (Yeah) Thumb in your throat, gun in the tote Either way smashing your dreams, dumbing your hope Laughing all up in your face (OK), what's happening Laughing all the way to Chase (OK), Manhattan [Chorus: Scratches] I...I..I..I..I...I.. I ain't the one to fuc wit (Word) I...I..I..I..I...I.. I ain't the one to fuc wit (Word) I...I..I..I..I...I.. I ain't the one to fuc wit (Word) Write my own rhymes Produce my own shit Yeah boy, I ain't the one to fuc wit