You Don’t Want It

Lyrics
[Intro] (Mafia) New York, clap ya hands Philly, where you at? (come on) CTSA, DC on back (come on) Work it back (come on) Nerds in the back (get goin') You ain't heard that Jean murda the track New York, clap ya hands Philly, where you at? (come on) CTSA, DC on back (come on) Work it back (come on) Nerds in the back (get goin') (Uhh uhh uh uh uh uh) [Verse 1] Welcome to the mind of the sickest mothafucka on earth Worse than a brain damaged cripple Nipple suckin' at birth, dropped (Huh) I'm dangerous your life is stuffin' your anus My game is so clutch, even this far from famous, bussin' Bars sicker than the high of the flu And if your spine sprouted wings, I'd still be flier than you The technician made a bomb squad specialist, except in reverse Blast to the spot, your inhabit first (blaam boom) Mangle your face up worse than the make-up That's on Tammy's face pillowcase whenever she wakes up I'm a terror, Lord Jesus I got many more reasons to maul y'all wall like venereal diseases A genius, gracious for gracin' this page J Grae's a bootlegger's favorite like a case of laid tapes Take it apart I'll stick a pin in your heart And leave a time-bomb spinnin' in the rims of your car (come on) Fool [Hook] Everybody get your hands up (come on) And if your ready to rumble with Jean, stand up (uhh) Put yah dukes up, "The Gooch's" back, panic, panic And if you think that I'm playin' nigga can it (you don't want it, no) Stop poppin' your mouth, you know (you don't want it, no) East, West, North, to the South, I go (you don't want it, no) Yah can't stop me come on, the Jeans drop and he gone Bout to brawl with everybody in this song (you don't want it, no) [Verse 2] Come on let's play catch, put your game faces back up Make up for time like a watch faced with some [?] I'm like the new crack in your hood Grae tops, you better change slots with me when the bass drops Never part of me, I boast dichotomy [?] with some comedy, camaraderie Home girl I'll keep your toes curled like an orgasm More adamant, more applause, so get your paws clappin' I had to pause to clap then Sicker than the clap you got from Maul in the back-end I'm brawlin' witchu all and then I fall into actin' It's like those other rappers fuck around, I do it backwards I got voice-overs up already along the track list The mass of the masters are with me to the casket "B" You could learn a shit or two from the business of Mrs. Grae shit You need too watch it (oooh) [Hook] Everybody get your hands up (come on) And if your ready to rumble with Jean, stand up (come on man) Put yah dukes up, "The Gooch's" back, panic, panic And if you think that I'm playin' nigga can it (you don't want it, no) Stop poppin' your mouth, you know (you don't want it, no) East, West, North, to the South, I go (you don't want it, no) Yah can't stop me come on, the Jeans drop and he gone Bout to brawl with everybody in this song (you don't want it, no) [Verse 3] I'm the orator with a smorgasbord, fork you in your corridor With your future coroner 's report More rebel-re than you'll ever need I'm like a double of Hennessy with a chaser of every remedy (Come on) the opposite of sanitary, my adversaries vocabulary Smack it like I'm Wesley dick in Halle Berry Well that was fucked up; I'm lackin' attack I'm just upset I never heard of Halle smackin' him back You'll built a shrine to Jean In nine years when I'm donned like a queen Plates of excavation, pieces of green, we at the zine of climb Niggas I preach my time, I got a Googolplex of frugal text I keep 'em in line, played in Malaysia, Budapest, I stay outspoken Outta order till the damn prosecution rest Fanfaronade 'til it sinks in like a marinade Apparently y'all fallacious fuckers are just scared of me (wooo) [Hook] Everybody get your hands up (come on) And if your ready to rumble with Jean, stand up (yeah) Put yah dukes up, "The Gooch's" back, panic, panic And if you think that I'm playin' nigga can it (you don't want it, no) Stop poppin' your mouth, you know (you don't want it, no) East, West, North, to the South, I go (you don't want it, no) Yah can't stop me come on, the Jeans drop and he gone Bout to brawl with everybody in this song (you don't want it, no) [Outro] So serious right now man (Mafia) The Gooch (wooo)
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Credits
- Writers
- Jean Grae
- Dirty Swift
- Bruce Waynne