I Ain't Havin That - Heltah Skeltah F/ Starang Wondah, Doc Holliday

Starang 
Forever like Wu Tang
My crew brings drama
Hangin your ass upside down by your shoe strings
Smoke tell em how we doin this
Stop the whole shit just to big up my crew in this
Now by all means I do a show in New Orleans
And get with bout it bout it Mystikal
Starang we been missin you 
Last year ATL we almost got physical 
I can't talk now read about it in the interview 
Like up in D&D I caught two and three stitches
I was still gettin bitches in the Tunnel takin pictures 
In the Mazda listenin to Kris I Got Next
I wanted hot sex so son I ran and got the Lex 

Aye yo shit goes down
Time to throw down show up its a showdown 
So down low now Im low down 
Hold down the fort now wit a four pound
Blow down ya whole town first go round 
Your smile'll quickly be switched bitch to your frown
When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out
Lay ya gold out now and dont pronounce one word
Shut the fuck up calm your cryin hoe down 
Tired of punk asses takin shit for a joke
Now watch your blouse gat pointed at yo door 
Act like you know now
We could be so foul shake your hand 
Run up in ya bitch no doubt

Shit yo game be asses 
I got two passes to the Baja 
Ah ha then turn into night 
We fuck in your car
Superthug pimpin
I aint got to brag because I did it 
Run before the rap when I was scrappin 
On these motherfuckin mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin
I aint got to front I make it happen 
Strictly snappin necks 
Strictly macs and tecs
Head all night over deuce deuce effects

Yo matter fact heres a list of some of the shit I aint havin
First of all there wont be no more talkin out yo ass man
I aint havin no back stabbin I aint havin shit
Niggaz run yo mouth you get smacked in it 
Why why why ask why 
Say goodbye to mister nice guy 
Say hi to the bad guy
Four horsemen head the magnum force man
Rip you get lit the fuck up 
Like a spliff of human torch man this shits scorchin 
Do the research your feet hurt from half steppin
Bitin my shit'll make your teeth hurt 
Word is Bon Jovi B we wildin
My dick dont say Yamaha stop ridin 

Son niggaz try ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that
Niggaz run up in the piece think were gone dead that fuck that
U.S. marshalls at my crib tryin to take me back fuck that
We could take it old school at 3 meet me in the back fuck that

Yo where you at
To all my peoples Hennessy passed off 
Give a toast to my whole MFC
While you clowns waitin Ruck is shakin the foundation 
With some groundbreakin shit that'll leave your town thinking 
When I cock back my pistol drop back and whistle 
For my niggas to hold me down because this town bout to get hit dude
and if you think a nigga won't let his tool click (Props to Kryptonite for these lyrics)
I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bullshit

U.S. marshal William Willow left his card up on my pillow
Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread you fuckin fed
MFC keep it cookin
William H with the blue print to plan my escape from central booking
Rock pick the lock Ruck bust the sha shottie
With the blast CC4 to blow the door 
Armed and dedicated semi underrated 
Fuck initimidated by a whip ass
You niggaz lick ass 
We blast gas pedal freak math
Doin the Macarena over 2 pounds of hash

You aint got no ends in mi casa
My shit proper you still suckin my kielbasa 
From hillshire I still fire from helicopters 
Watch the birdie I heard him tell the tale to the coppers 
Clock ya comin from the precinct singin operas
Met you at ya crib from the blind side I dropped ya
Knocked ya teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya 
Sent you upstate to get a gun and ya poppa 

Yo niggaz that I know was on before right now smoke crack fuck that
Yo ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that
Yall niggaz think yall gone come around here flashin track fuck that
And if you niggaz owe me dough besta get my trap fuck that

Son you know they can't stand me
Cause my crew pack heat like Miami
Waitin for these rappers outside of the Grammys
They be killin me how they willingly be grillin me
Cause they shorty wop just be feelin' me
Could it be
My name or my big gold chain 
Now when we in the airport on our way to soul train 
I got niggaz on the west coast 
That meet me at the airport carryin heat in they trenchcoats 
In business class eatin french toast and coffee 
Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on yall 
Warned ya but yall still couldn't wait for the all time great 
William H word up

And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back fuck that
You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack fuck that
Son dont fuck her raw heres a jimmy hat fuck that
Here's a tic tac your breath smell like ass crack fuck that