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The MOST DIFFICULT part about going to JAIL... MULTIPLE times | What happened to Mystikal?
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Listen to Original (feat. Birdman & Lil Wayne) - Single by Mystikal
ALBUMOriginal (feat. Birdman & Lil Wayne) - SingleMystikal

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mystikal
Mystikal
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Birdman
Birdman
Composer
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Composer
Michael Tyler
Michael Tyler
Composer
N. Fisher
N. Fisher
Composer
K. Anderson
K. Anderson
Composer
j. Lay
j. Lay
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Birdman
Birdman
Executive Producer
Detail
Detail
Producer
King Midas
King Midas
Producer
Fareed Salamah
Fareed Salamah
Recording Engineer
Michael “BANGER” Cadahia
Recording Engineer
Sean Buchanan
Sean Buchanan
Assistant Recording Engineer
Fabian Marascuillo
Fabian Marascuillo
Mixing Engineer
Chris Gehringer
Chris Gehringer
Mastering Engineer
Ronald "Slim Tha Don" Williams
Ronald "Slim Tha Don" Williams
Executive Producer
Dwayne "The President" Carter
Dwayne "The President" Carter
Executive Producer

Lyrics

Birds for the summer Hummers for the runners Candy on the paint 9 for the thunder Throw a couple hundreds Fishing on a fishtail Big money shit, Cash Money oilwell 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 Way I'm better than Beethoven To the beat that I rap over Stay outta that medicine cabinet Yeah, that's what they told me Giving us piss tests, cause we stay rollin' And know a nigga act better than a .45 caliber pistol when they loading They penalize us, tryna slow us down They constantly f-cking us up That's why we're buck wild Call me porch monkey, call me jigaboo When you know you wanna f-ck my woman and eat my barbeque How the f-ck you gon' watch my house But don't wanna live on my street The ape man told Tarzan "how the f-ck you better than me?" Rap I run that rock, and got a jump shot Who we got that black wife, up in that white house I took a look and didn't sell out I was in the? and didn't bail out Hoping the, didn't fail out Back to the top from the jail house Lace 'em up, tie ya shoe Catch a cut, you know what pressure do Birds for the summer Hummers for the runners Candy on the paint 9 for the thunder Throw a couple hundreds Fishing on a fishtail Big money shit, cash money oilwell 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 f-cking male Who out c'here f-cking with me, huh? tell me that I'm bout to drop that sh-t, 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 f-cking bed You dun built this f-cking castle? Yeah nigga what the hell Talking baby business, yeah Don't be f-cking 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 me 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 skeetin You gon' be the one bussing or be the one fleeing You better keep on trucking Ain't nobody wanna f-ck with me this evening Birds for the summer Hummers for the runners Candy on the paint 9 for the thunder Throw a couple hundreds Fishing on a fishtail Big money shit, cash money oilwell 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 Uh, ain't it crazy how shit be That's why I flush it I got the Tommy gun with the drum That's percussion I just popped a couple pain pills, self destruction I made something out of nothing, thanks for nothin' I pistol whip ya bitch, knock her out Robitussin Ran up in your house, killed everybody, no discussion Rep, that muthaf-cking red flag like a Russian Yeah, look, I told her baby I'm a thrasher We kissed, I lit her ass up than 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 That's cool, I do it for all the niggas that try And all the bitches I've f-cked, and all my niggas that died Tunechi Birds for the summer Hummers for the runners Candy on the paint 9 for the thunder Throw a couple hundreds Fishing on a fishtail Big money shit, cash money oilwell 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
Writer(s): Dwayne Carter, Bryan Williams, Michael L. Tyler, Noel C. Fisher, Justin Midas Lay Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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