Mystikal Follow

19 nigga 7, bitch what's happenin?Chorus:Thirteen muthaf**kin years!I know what to do to knock your stupid assso bad you ain't no challenge.Thirteen muthaf**kin years!This ain't no fluke, this pure deep talent.Thirteen muthaf**kin years!I know what to do to knock your stupid assso bad you ain't no challenge.Thirteen muthaf**kin years![Verse 1]Bow, when I hold the microphone and hold itKeepin me rappin until I hoarse and swollenThirteen years and rollinI rate colder than coldestGettin part of this, niggas don't want no more of thisNever leave you alone in your life, nigga I'm selectin and sellin rhymesSlap a nigga that style sound some like mineMad enough you screamin "It AIN'T!"(This line whispered, can't hear)You be pissin me off some the time, take you down one at a timeI'ma be known for f**kin over your whole albumWho want my rhyme?Keep decling, I'ma keep climbingKeep duckin, I'ma keep buckinKeepin heat seekin rhymes comin to get you bitches off meDisrespectors cow sled, (..?..)Hard to break, if it comes that wayIt took me thirteen muthaf**kin years just to make a tapeBut that don't mean that my rhymes one of the strongestAll I know I been tryin to make it for the f**kin longestF**k the side of all this, long as you done itWhen I done it, gettin blunted bout to run this bitchTakin them riders down with me, clown with meLeave thirteen in your muthaf**kin chest and you can count emChorus[Verse 2]Nigga go pass the vibe, dividin mad this yearCreative catastrophy, leave MCs in closed casketsHit ya like full metal jackets, cut like hatchetsTight as ratchets, and burn like matchesThick than amino acids, flip like gymnastics, nasty as a pissy mattressDroppin like the temperature in DecemberClippin em, tippin em, been writin raps far back as I can rememberFulla them rocks, everybody move keyIt was ghetto Djs and sucka MCsHandle your buisness in this industry of competitionOr be at F.W. Bulls washin dishesBitch I was born to write million dollar rhymesBattle in the hallways of Cohen back in 8586, 87, 88, hooked up with Big Boy records and made my first demo tapeWe dropped some real shit in the basementI had big ol' nigga tracks, raps like pavementTo come from New Orleans made it hard to surfaceThat's when I got discouraged and joined the servicePissed of and I (?) before longI went to war and served federal time before I made it back homeNo more rips in my jeans and gettin my creamAin't shit unlucky about my number thirteenChorus[Verse 3]I hit the bitch like BOSH! Owwwwww!Never gon bounce could rap and doin time before I bowHow in the f**k you like me right nowTold your ass she had said I'd be on top of the pileCause my rap style is my hustleI shot niggas up like MuslimsWith the flex like muscleUse a, pretty delievery cause it's most importantI form a style sharp enough to cut straight through the bonesI came from my welts, gave up my beltI got off from Big Boy records to put my single on the shelf, nowDo I do it? F**kin right I did itShoulda seen the little chir'en in the street singin I'm Not That NiggaSize ain't nothin nigga, I'm shortShockin nigga, raah!They gave me five hundred dollars, shit I quit both of my jobsF**k em, got some other shit to do from nine to fiveMy birthday came, and my sister diedBut next year, Mystikal signed a half a million dollar deal with JiveThis shit thats tragic can't be no moreBecause of my rings I work at A&P no moreI drive my landcruiser off the show floorGot the time to time to feel pain, sittin on VolvosComin with scheme, up in my dreamWho'd a ever thought I'd be a No Limit soldierby the end of that thirteenThirteen manic muthf**kin years!