|
The Mistahs - Wuff Tickets lyrics
(Mr. Shadow) I make the shit hit the fans Smoke ah bowl and take a stand like a solider No one can hold us we're taking over Better get a hold of your so-called friends S-D so Cal from beginning to end Mexicans with an attitude not giving a fuck You can hate all you want your hoes still on my nuts We the Mistahs tell me what you got against us That were G's and your broad want to sex us? Mr. Shadow and the Mutha fucking Lil one We let 'em bleed and staying heated like the Cali sun Anyone got a problem? We'll handle it Cause all that you know what I heard... we ain't having it Watch your mouth your tongue is your worst enemy, Remember me And don't ever try impressing me I know my presents be posing a threat I'm the chosen mutha fucka the shadow of your death (Hook)(x2) We're selling Wuff Tickets Keep your shit upon your gun Wuff Tickets Mr. Shadow, Lil One We're selling Wuff Tickets You can never see the Mistahs Wuff Tickets While we all up in your Sistah (Mr. Lil One) I'm take 'em to the strain All the loot and the fame We got these petty mother fuckers always wuffing my name It's a shame but there lying that there living is fast I'm ah wanted mutha fucka you be wearing a mask Me and Shaddy ain't got a brag you be knowing we bad All the stories you be selling jeopardizing your path Got a million mutha fuckaz on my nuts everyday Got a couple more mill on the way right away Stay away from the rain stay away from the fate I don't need to explain find your corps in the lake Stay awake if you sleep then your deep in the mist You can blame it on your mouth or your gossiping lips Aint that a bitch how you lived and you died for this shit Aint that a trip how you did ain't nobody give a shit Live your life to the fullest and avoid meeting bullets (Hook) (Mr. Shadow) Payback is a bitch trick you stop smiling Run your mouth and get your whole hood green lighted Don't try it inside or outside You get crossed and bum rushed in the Southside It's brown pride till the day I get buried I'm very... high drunk strapped and ready Your talk is petty so shut the fuck up, yeah We the Mistahs...bitch what? (Mr. Lil One) Now I really don't need to explain myself Now don't trip dog I'ma behave myself I got to much shit going on in my life To jeopardize my child and my future wife Got a lid to give and another ten kids Still pop lids and mind my own bids Which reminds me you find me kind of loony Bring your bitch dog... I bet she wanna do me (Hook) |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 The Dutchess by Fergie |
 Call Me Irresponsible by Michael Buble |
 The Rose, Vol. 2 by 2Pac |
 The Massacre by 50 Cent |
 Our Love to Admire by Interpol |
