U Can't Handle This

[mystikal talking] You would if you could But you can't So you ain't [mystikal] The minute I step in dis bitch I hear Oh shit Mothafucka, God Damn! Watch out for dat nigga You can't handle em For a period of time Noone can match those rhymes to mine Im top of the line Prickin your ass like a porcupine I know what to do to knock your stupid ass so bad It ain't no challenge! This ain't no mothafuckin fluke, This pure deep talent! Im Gifted, Explicit mistressed and Explicit Brand new home, same old nigga I ain't playin with you bitches! Why you niggas be rappin Like your scared and unprepared Im gonn have ya leave this mothafucka sayin Whatd that mothafucka said? Gimme the bud, the weed I puff like elvis and the beetles That gets blazed, then a couple soft MC's on pins and needles Niggas that got beef wit me Better bring a heater Or either bow down to me Cut off you dick, jesus Thats the reason Im fuckin wit niggas Wasup wit dem niggas dats talkin shit You better go fuck wit anotha nigga You can't handle this! [Chorus] Oh shit, Motha Fucka! God Damn! x8 [mystikal] Certified rhyme busta Bitch Nigga, Bitch nigga Same nigga, If Im not that nigga But that nigga from punks, still come with the rif raf Went from Gold diggin, ta gold chains I went from Club Train, Ta Soul Train! Fightin like a wild coyote Like capone, hot seller Keep your fuckin deck deader, then a bad woodpecker I dont like niggas tryin ta run up on my shit and set Im the tarantula on the catipillar, Bitch ill kill ya Catch more attention, then oriental peacocks Phat rhymes, Hot tracks, A full room of rebocks Ive got the gift thatll make a Bitch get off me Spent like charles barkley So bitch Dont start me! Whos that click? Use to be mobbin in my hood Beware! Here I go! Get that boy good Come like, there I was When were yall idiots in the cut? I raise the hacksaw, you jump back Now yall niggas dont want no trouble, Can't stop us [Chorus x8] [mystikal] I know ya'll nigga know better than to fuck wit tha man Dont ya (dont ya) Nigga dont you know what my style can't be poached And every nigga around, probably got beef wit somebody But thats the same nigga between the fighters I ain't got it (i ain't got it) When underground rules, will be tha day My legs start to shake Another nigga couldn't off throw me on skates! Im the supplier The gasoline on your fire, Got em dodge em Michael Tyler! The drunken fighter Yall Niggas can't do what I do! (man fuck that nigga) Naw Motherfuck you! Good lord, the rhymes come through so hardcore Bitch I got it if you bad enuff to take it Its yours! A lyrical ass whoopin Is what im cookin Hungry, Spittin all over your room when you wasn't lookin Ain't no canibus, the wrong nigga with ta mess You get tha flatback like rambo Bitch YOu can't handle this! [Chorus till fade] (11 times)