letra de wtf - mista cain
[intro: b will]
what the f-ck you mean, huh? yeah
[chorus: mista cain & b will]
what the f-ck you mean, yeah
ain’t no bodies in my section (what the f-ck?)
i can’t get in with that smith & wesson (and i can’t get in)
what the f-ck you mean you ain’t f-ckin’, yeah (what the f-ck?)
i just blew a hundred bands like it’s nothin’ (nothin’)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
[verse 1: b will]
she want a rich hater, what the f-ck you mean?
i need that p-ssy clean, you know what i mean
girl don’t talk about no sprite if you ain’t brought no lean
n-gga you scorin’ or you rollin’, you know what i mean, yadda mean
i like a b-tch that likes to toot -ss, she gon’ let me cut
catch this here, i want a new bag, hundred thousand up
dooly truck, look i can’t do bad
and i got a shooter with no brains, nothin’ under his durag
baby draco schoolbags
how you love that? babe go’n judge that
when you pull up in that porsche them hoes gon’ love that
i got this ar with this drum, you don’t want none of that
oh you a man, you got a plan, well stand in front of that
we selling hootoo like it’s legal
cut my uncle off because he crooked and he evil
and he all on facebook, n-gga mixin’ up his people (my grannie’s son)
but f-ck it, i don’t need him
i’m real clean, bands in my designer jeans
[chorus: mista cain & b will]
what the f-ck you mean, yeah
ain’t no bodies in my section (what the f-ck?)
i can’t get in with that smith & wesson (and i can’t get in)
what the f-ck you mean you ain’t f-ckin’, yeah (what the f-ck?)
i just blew a hundred bands like it’s nothin’ (nothin’)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
[verse 2: mista cain]
drop top porsche, hit the lights and let’s go to whip
just put my d-ck on that lil horse and let her know what’s real
he must’ve thought that i was stuntin’, he saw my shoulders k!ll
bam-bam-bam-bam-bam, b-tch that’s overk!ll
she say i’m wise, i say baby i be so for real
who the f-ck you sleepin’ on? baby ain’t no sofas here
kush blunts everywhere, n0body sober here
who the f-ck you think you is, you must not know sh-t real
i put that b-tch on pills, look at my wrist on chill
put so much ice on jesus’ head, i just might go to h-ll
big money over here, get money, smoke, and chill
nice try, try again, ain’t no stayin’ over here
[chorus: mista cain & b will]
what the f-ck you mean, yeah
ain’t no bodies in my section (what the f-ck?)
i can’t get in with that smith & wesson (and i can’t get in)
what the f-ck you mean you ain’t f-ckin’, yeah (what the f-ck?)
i just blew a hundred bands like it’s nothin’ (nothin’)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
what the f-ck you mean? (what the f-ck you mean?)
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