Craig B - U Can't Handle This lyrics

[mystikal talking] You would if you could But you can't So you ain't [mystikal] The minute I step in dis b**h I hear Oh sh** Mothaf**a, God Damn! Watch out for dat n***a You can't handle em For a period of time Noone can match those rhymes to mine Im top of the line Prickin your a** like a porcupine I know what to do to knock your stupid a** so bad It ain't no challenge! This ain't no mothaf**in fluke, This pure deep talent! Im Gifted, Explicit mistressed and Explicit Brand new home, same old n***a I ain't playin with you b**hes! Why you n***as be rappin Like your scared and unprepared Im gonn have ya leave this mothaf**a sayin Whatd that mothaf**a said? Gimme the bud, the weed I puff like elvis and the beetles That gets blazed, then a couple soft MC's on pins and needles n***as that got beef wit me Better bring a heater Or either bow down to me Cut off you dick, jesus Thats the reason Im f**in wit n***as Wasup wit dem n***as dats talkin sh** You better go f** wit anotha n***a You can't handle this! [Chorus] Oh sh**, Motha f**a! God Damn! x8 [mystikal] Certified rhyme busta b**h n***a, b**h n***a Same n***a, If Im not that n***a But that n***a from punks, still come with the rif raf Went from Gold diggin, ta gold chains I went from Club Train, Ta Soul Train! Fightin like a wild coyote Like capone, hot seller Keep your f**in deck deader, then a bad woodpecker I dont like n***as tryin ta run up on my sh** and set Im the tarantula on the catipillar, b**h ill k** ya Catch more attention, then oriental peaco*ks Phat rhymes, Hot tracks, A full room of rebocks Ive got the gift thatll make a b**h get off me Spent like charles barkley So b**h Dont start me! Whos that click? Use to be mobbin in my hood Beware! Here I go! Get that boy good Come like, there I was When were yall idiots in the cut? I raise the hacksaw, you jump back Now yall n***as dont want no trouble, Can't stop us [Chorus x8] [mystikal] I know ya'll n***a know better than to f** wit tha man Dont ya (dont ya) n***a dont you know what my style can't be poached And every n***a around, probably got beef wit somebody But thats the same n***a between the fighters I ain't got it (i ain't got it) When underground rules, will be tha day My legs start to shake Another n***a couldn't off throw me on skates! Im the supplier The gasoline on your fire, Got em dodge em Michael Tyler! The drunken fighter Yall n***as can't do what I do! (man f** that n***a) Naw Motherf** you! Good lord, the rhymes come through so hardcore b**h I got it if you bad enuff to take it Its yours! A lyrical a** whoopin Is what im cookin Hungry, Spittin all over your room when you wasn't lookin Ain't no canibus, the wrong n***a with ta mess You get tha flatback like rambo b**h YOu can't handle this! [Chorus till fade] (11 times)