Nothin Lyrics

Put you in my teacup, you going to spin around

The ugly stick's out at Coyote bar, so you gone sit on down

Any minute now those sit-ups bound to get you up off the ground

And up onto your feet, right back to the lost and found

Who you claim? Who claims you? And why they ain't in a suit

Why you ain't say the truth? How you know I ain't came with proof

It's alright man I'm through, wait I'm not through, I'm just thru with you

Ain't got nothing to do with you, so mind your moves man I'm moving true

You in front of your children? Well fuck what you feeling

I'll be up in the building, so come get the villain

Cause buddy I'm chilling, I'm not really chilling

That's silly - I won't stop 'till I got a trillion

It's millions of moves that I'm making, I'm shaking and baking

Oh wait fuck the bacon...just not Mr. Bacon

I'm taking some plates and you letting me break all your patience

I'm shattering notions of what I was

While I'm buttering up all these butter-buns

In their buttoned up shirts and cummerbunds

I got ninety-nine problems, score a hundred runs

You ain't tagging me out at the plate

We done had that debate, I whipped you into shape

But this one is because you the son of the son

Of a Sam, I'm a rip off your cape

I don't know nothing about ya

But I'm bout to get some bucks out ya

Go tell your squad, they gone doubt ya

Every last word

I'd like to know how I caught ya

You heard me running my mouth-a

Wasn't saying nothing about ya

Next time be sure

I'm fresh outta gas, oh wait I'm driving a lemon

And I smell lemonade so I push the ride to Seven-Eleven

Like, 'Oh Thank Heaven,' no, they said it

Oh then thank the fact that they also sell

Excedrin in a pack of seven

I bet you thought that I'd come on and actually say something

Something different from the fact that a catastrophe is coming

I've come to rip you from your shackles of of your shacks

Counterattack, of the snap , crackle, pop-crackle, snap

Clap on back

Go have a private Snapple chat where everything's fine after that

You called shotgun? Here take it, now ride in the back

Chick-chick bang, fuck where you came from and whatever you saying

Just play dumb and look at no one, ride this basic train

I'm shattering notions of what I was

While I'm buttering up all these butter-buns

In their buttoned up shirts and cummerbunds

I got ninety-nine problems, score a hundred runs

You ain't tagging me out at the plate

We done had that debate, I whipped you into shape

But this one is because you the son of the son

Of a Sam, I'm a rip off your cape

I don't know nothing about ya

But I'm bout to get some bucks out ya

Go tell your squad, they gone doubt ya

Every last word

I'd like to know how I caught ya

You heard me running my mouth-a

Wasn't saying nothing about ya

Next time be sure