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(feat. Mystikal) |
| [1st Verse:] |
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A lyrical ruckus has erupted |
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And fucked wit' yo' manhood |
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When I get up and start bustin |
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Niggas just be like *ugh* |
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Get out my way, from this day on I put a dent in this shit |
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I know a lot of bitches thought it, but mama's endin' this shit |
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Been in this shit |
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My aim is to disfigure yo' style |
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And put it to sleep because the industry don't need no freaks |
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Meanwhile, my clique is settin' up shop on yo' block |
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And KLC got every car, bumpin' these ignorant knocks |
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Fuck them cops, and the mics, bitch I know my shit's tight |
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Just show us pain from the street, is what them niggas like |
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No half-steppin', my hooptie is a legend, shall we talk numbers? |
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Pull my bankbook out, and watch these figures stun ya, run ya |
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Why you niggas be lyin' on records? |
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Hoes barrin' marked hoes from D.O's to I don't know, but check it |
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Why y'all fakin' tha funk? |
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I raise my right hand trust, everything you see wit' No Limit |
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Belongs to us, let's get straight |
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[Chorus: Mystikal] |
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Let's get it straight, you gon' know her when you see her |
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That's mama, the biggest mama, mama Mia |
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[x2] |
| [2nd Verse:] |
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Now I'm unlady like, my verses hit yo' ears like Boo-Yah!! |
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I wear the pants in every freestyle stance with my verbal hoo-ride |
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Do I, ever slack up on that ass? Hell no |
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I threw the K well away, so it's so swell it stays so |
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What you know about me is just I'm 'bout it, 'bout it |
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And that our mob's T-R-U because they rowdy, rowdy, no doubt |
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Hey those beats, was meant for me like a cellmate |
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My brown lips fucked the piss out his 8-0-8 |
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Drum kicks, and then they creep like TLC |
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And hella fast with O-Down, Mo B. Dick and Craig B |
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The beats, by the pound, nigga, best beware |
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Y'all ain't even comin' close to what they puttin' out there |
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My mama, got the drama, for any hoe, but mainly all |
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You Milli Vanilli hens who ain't got no pen better know |
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No Limit, I represent it, in a minute, to win it |
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With the gold and platinum finish |
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Let's get it straight |
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[Chorus] |
| [3rd Verse:] |
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Late niggas be writin' all kinds of fucked up shit |
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About my family |
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P, Silkk, C, and my tank doggs, but we ain't even trippin |
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Punk critics, nah, you almost cryin', we'll buy up every |
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Publication and put you out a job, you still shy, everyday |
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Nigga think we can't? |
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Contemplate before you come to walk against a tank |
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I'm tellin' you one more gin', may have you where I want |
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But best keep hidin' behind them pen names cuz I know |
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You don't, wanna see us, because you wish, for a grant |
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You hit. One mo' time hoe, and yo' ass gon' meet the |
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Fish, of the M-I-Crooked letter-Crooked letter-I |
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Humpback, humpback, I ain't lyin |
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We on a mission, wit' nothin' but ebonics comin' through |
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Yo' system, flippin' rocks for phonics, but it's crime |
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Because you listenin |
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And you bob yo' head, better than a hooker, but yo' jealousy |
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Got you hatin' sayin' I woulda', they shoulda', they coulda what?! |
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We got the plat-screen property ebbin' us, but most of all |
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We still black owned and independent, let's get it straight! |
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[Chorus: Both] |
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[Mystikal] |
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Let's get it straight, you gon' know her when you see her |
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That's mama, the biggest mama, Mama Mia |
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Get it straight, you gon' know her when you see her |
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That's mama, the baddest mama, Mama Mia |
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Get it straight, you gon' know her when you see her |
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That's mama, the biggest, baddest mama, Mama Mia |
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Get it straight, Get it Straight! |
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[Mia X] Tru...No Limit...Mama Mia... |
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[Mystikal] So the next time you say "Yo Mama", |
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You better slow down, and think about what you doin'! |
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[Mia X] I'm out this bitch!!! |
