Mystikal - That'S The Nigga (A.K.A. That'S The Rapper) lyrics

rate me

Microphone check (what), check one

Microphone check (what), check two

Microphone check (what), check three

Microphone check (huh), check four

What chall niggas wanna do, how yall wanna do it?

Huh, check one

Kick this shit raw

Ghetto fabulous

That's the rapper

Turn your hands towards your ass and say bye bye

From the southside, southside, puff, ya ya ya

Nothin but the fiya ya

Eardrums snatchin champion cheap rhyme busters till the day I die

I say I lie

Bitch I'll be fuckin on your grave singin ay la ba

I throw em off, I'm two scoops for coo coo

I swoosh through your froot loops, poo poo in your fubu

Yall niggas remember what happened to that mosquito

Tweeter tweeter MC, the sweeter I be ja meaner

Stop your water turn off your gas cut off your lights

Move you out, cut your grass, watch your kids, fuck your wife

Like a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich I'm good

Mm hmm, like syrup on the biscut and orange juice ???

Come and take me by the hand and walk ya

I'm the thief in the night that slide your droors off ya

Watch where ya steppin I'm a verbal weapon

Bring more pain then when John Wayne came on old westerns

What is the actual fuckin meaning

I come in this bitch, without leavin this bitch that think we leaning

It's been like that since way back

I used to rock eight tracks before I rocked eight decks

Concepts goin stay fat, concerts goin stay packed

Ownership's goin stay black, nigga this is payback

I scrape ya somethin crawlin to establishment

Now I'm country club livin from the scribble scrabblin my talent

Proper proper droppin somethin decent

Yall niggas is as fucked up as Santa Clause for easter

I'm a keep comin as long as KLC keep drummin

And the only way to stop me is call the people for me

Fuck them people, I'll fuck over you if I have to

That's the nigga, that's that bastard

That's the rapper

Ghetto fabulous

That's the nigga

Who that say they can't sale boy?

They the third ward huh, the 12th ward for all y'all

My dogs, my boys and my hogs

Gutiers on these boys and get down and go off

All sides get high when they ride to my words

They mine and they high when I'm live in concert

Stop what your thinking

This ain't no showoff of my business

I don't need nine or ten pack of rappers with me

I'm independent, make frontin, stuntin suckers lose thier stomach

They lose their clout, their cool

And after I come in the cut they lose thier woman

Hello ghetto fabulous and big mansions

And fine fabrics

Like a man much money comes automatic

You don't wanna battle with a hardcore rhyme fanatic

Full speed ahead vocabulary acrobatic

That's him, that's that rapper

That's the man, that's the rapper

That's ghetto fabulous

That's the rapper