J.R. Writer - Who Could f** Wit Me lyrics

[Hook] Who could f** with me? Who could f** with me? What you schmucks don't see I'm a f**ing G Who could f** with me? It's a couple ki's when I come to re where the hustlers be Who could f** with me? [Verse 1] Who could f** with me? Who could f** with me? You could f** with me? What, you puff some D or you stuck on E? Who the f** you be? You get dumped for free in the garbage bag When I spark and blast I could call your a** Pinocchio When I carve your a** with the Harlem swag Every rhyme is piff, line-for-line I'm sick Never mind my wrist, or my shines they gliss You don't shine like this or rhyme like this, in designer fits Them designs you pick, they come to me for designer tips I'm beyond this sh** -- who you trying to diss? I'm on a fast pace, you dudes in the last place Eminem at the MTV Awards -- you's an a** face You don't stack cake -- the cheddar's never on you Since you think you that great, I just got one question for you [Hook] [Verse 2] Who could f** with me? Who could f** with me? I'm the one you see when you come to re What you want? Some ki's or a couple P's? What the f** you need? n***a, hurry up 'fore I burn it up You gon' murder what? I could hear you clear, but I turn it up You ain't heard of us? Better get some advice 'fore we end you tonight, little n***a It's like with the booth in the bathroom -- I'm the sh** with the mic Get the pen and I write cause I'm lyrically nice You gon' get me for ice? Pull that llama out, we will stomp you out Get a kick and alike when we kick you with Nikes I'm the sickening type, with a pen from the Heights I'm Dominican, right? Call me Rafer Alston, how I skip with the white What you think it was like? You ain't think I was nice? Don't be thinking polite I'm a f**ing G What you chumps don't see Who could f** with me?