Mutha****a (Xplicit Album Version)

Tyga - Mutha****a Up

YMCMB, rawest n*ggas doing it

School for the blind, I don’t see these n*ggas doing it

I’m doing it and doing it and doing it well

N*ggas wanna test me boy, who wanna fail?

Hit you like a bully b*tch, yeah saved by the bell

If you scared, go to church I’ll see you in hell

And your girl, she a flip, give me heads or tails

Everybody fake so I got real for sale

Gunpowder fill the air

Rappers *******’ on theyself, you could smell the fear

And these b*tches laying flowers cause the king is near

T-Raw this is the new flavour in ya ear

N*ggas softer than baby hair

Why you acting tough, heard you work at Build-a-bear

I’m a a dealer all my girls come in deuce and pairs

I’m in the building I construct so light this mutha****er up

What the funk you beezy’s want

I’m ready to hump the car I call it ele-phunk

Trunk in the front

Man she give me good brain cause she feel dumb

I just keep going like the bunny till I feel numb

Yeah these b*tches want it

I put my man’s on it

That 110 Sup’, that Ferrari California

N*ggas want beef, call me Tony Romo

You potatoes on the sofa

Lazy mutha****as why you ain't even trying

Rich or die trying, why you n*ggas ain't died yet?

Wings tattoo yeah forever on some fly ****

And I’m with the business skip peon with a ty clip

Stay on the flight yeah I’ma trip

Probably up in Paradise chillin’ like Parliaments

Flow got a boner, you could say I’m on some harder ****

Bout to make the speaker buss’

Crank this mutha****a up

Okay, really I get money

I get money like a b*tch

She ain't goin’ nowhere but I swear that b*tch a trip

You see how the diamonds get to dancing

Yeah, ya money short, get some pants and ****

I be with a n*gga with a big ol’ ****

Yeah I like them b***s you be shooting them bricks

**** you in the game for?

B*tch we up three sippin’ this game four

Tell ‘em listen, couple bad b*tches’s

Out in Kingston kicking up bricks and ****

Intervention b*tch I pay ya pension

Oh you say what? I don’t pay attention

Yeah these n*ggas want it

I put my b*tches on it

You know the tattoo’s got Nicki initials on it

I put the ***** on ‘em, cook ‘em a pot roast

Then pull off in the Ghost

B*tch I do the most

What the funk you beezy’s want?

It ain't your turn, better have my money

Friday like Big worm

Can’t see you n*ggas, you like a little germ

B*tches know I’m excellent like Mr Burns

See my d*ck like Butter churn

Baby churn and ya girl with me fo’ sure

That ain't your concern

She forgot about her other man, she will never learn

On a mic till I die, RIP chick huh

Yessir, colder than the Pitt**urgh?

Winter fresher than a Will Smith T-S*irt

These spurts coming through Last King and a hearse

Ask later, shoot first, got shooters like dirt

When it hurts leave you losers bruised up

Bruce Lee nunchucks

Toe from the floor up though

Duck, rubber duck now you like oh shucks

Tell the neighbours I don’t give a ****

Crank this mutha****a up