I'm

(альбом: Mind Of Mystikal - 1996)

I'M! [x8]

[Verse 1]
See I'm that nigga that's, fixing to do my dirt under the sun
I been hustling since the morning become
I keep a couple of rocks under my tongue
Watch out here come the cop, might notta stand still where you chill
Run to no automobile cause it can kill
My destination can feed my home purpose
I'm vibrating' on the down low in the first place
You want me show me the money you gonna be paying
Pop ya ass up out of the van and take these rocks up out my hand
Cause I don't trust ya and I ain't trying
Hold up nigga, I don't know ya gotta reach out at the same time
You want some, come get some
Tyson's on the drum and I'MMMMM!

I'M! [x16]

[Verse 2]
Ya living, in living up in my people's renting
Windows tinted, nigga from a couple houses down
Get Skinny, bump it to last amount of spitting
It's senseless how them dudes be smoking that shit
Getting roped in that shit, jump in this shit
I got to flipping on nigga, you want some more of that shit
Live in that click where niggas do what they gotta do
Blast em' with burnable fuck em' and watch em' fuck you
Nigga be living that life, playin the role of a gangsta
But them niggas ain't gangstas
Bitch you gotta be big enough to think about being a fuckin gangsta
Most of them niggas be coming real
Bring it to ya blood field but that nigga got killed
That's how it be's on that rough side
The tough die, the strong die
Fuck with the wrong niggas on with the wrong chrome
Check the wrong shit, walk the wrong zone
Nigga you good as dead and gone (Problem serious)
Nigga don't hear me that's how we living till the saga stops
Every nigga and his mom gotta glock on my block
Niggas push rocks and dodge cops till they pissed and tired
Nigga, you living by the gun
Y'all need to handle y'all fucking business cause I'M!

I'M! [x8]

[Verse 3]
Don't sell it, Arm & Hammer got my rocks swelling
Laws is yellin, prosecutors yelling
I'ma glock ya spot, ya head pop like a fucking melon
Do my thing destiny I'm a felon
But I ain't just a young, black nigga rebelling
Breath by breath, step by step, day by day
Playing this game of death
My nigga remind ya of manslaughter
Niggas slanging quarters
Georgia, Cali, to New Orleans rolling
I'm in the pen, pumping that iron until I'm swole up
Grits and cheese made me bigger
Now I'm just a lil' bit harder than that next nigga
The first one up to run up
That nigga there gon' get done up
When I put that fucking gun up
They told ya, ya hip bone gone gone
That lil' roam don't live long, pop me to stop it
Cock block me, you bitches can't drop me
Hoes gon' still jock me
Got me now the niggas mock me
I seen Scarface twice now I'm a fucking carbon copy
Missing on society
And insane probably cause I'm full of animosity
I'm kind of like at all
I might huff and puff and blow ya fucking hat off
Tear it off, swear it off
Now get the 411 to 911 to Red Cross
My moaning make me lead
Ten steps to feel these
Got me cocked these
Swinging like Conan
Wanted from no man with boo-koo ho fans
Talk more garbage, funk, filth, shit, trash, and lies
Rhymes so funky they draw flies
If I rock one up, shock one up
It simple enough to be did
But your shit terror rig
Change your big
Niggas be sayin big
Pass the fig, don't give me no fucking pig
I don't choose no swine
But eat Popeye's chicken and eat watermelon to the fucking rind
Feel the grip of this black chrome
That don't fucking rhyme, nigga get ya back broke
Fucking with them black folks

I'M [x5] [with DJ scratching in background]