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F-U M.F. Video (MV)






Kool Keith - F-U M.F. Lyrics




So what you got your first deal?
Who you signed with, nigga?
Epic?
Def Jam?
I don't give a f*ck if you're with Warner Bros.
Who you signed with, nigga?
Muthaf*ckin Loud?
Interscope, Columbia, Sony, 550
F*ck it if you're with Dreamworks
And if is, your in-house commercial-ass producers
Can suck out the interior out of my dick
Y'all still 75, that ain't no new shit
Fake-ass wanna-be hip-hop shit
Don't worry about who the f*ck I hang with
Jealous muthaf*ckas

I'm tired of niggas fooling muthaf*ckas
Actin like they drug dealers
All you rappers fantasizin that jewelry and car shit
You can pull the Speedos and suck my dick
Tell your corny fans who believe that shit
Lick the back of my ass quick
I'ma shut faggots down
Especially muthaf*ckas with that gay-ass production
New millenium homo sound
Smack the shit out of you for doin that wack-ass shit you do
50 bodyguards surround you
Keepin men that f*ck you in the ass around you
Standin like you runnin shit, you ain't the f*ckin President
Posin with ugly bitches in your video who take AIDS medicine
You don't wanna f*ck with me or rock with me
Or rhyme on any block with me
F*ck the rap museum
I should be on the wall next to Run-D.M.C.
Between Public Enemy
Some assholes jealous me
I don't care no more about your lyrics
The average MC is bullshit, I don't hear it
F*ck you talkin about you rap with a good spirit
I make rappers intimidated
Over wack-ass beats they get motivated, some have ministrated
Even suburban kids copy your shit and duplicate it
My balls you now cherish
By some new-ass MC about to perish
Type of muthaf*cka to eat a lotta celery
Your CD was butter-soft - what you tellin me?
A bunch of 'N Sync type of fans hyped you up like Bill Bellamy
A bitch like you would rhyme with a curfew
Niggas with real shit will hurt you
The girl scout club I refer you
Bastard you
Your man rap, new nigga, he's wack, f*ck you
Stay low, I'm above you
Erase your shit, I don't dub you
F*CK YOU
F*CK YOU

Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU

Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU

Yeah
You been rappin for 20'000 years
And you ain't got your f*ckin deal yet?
What the f*ck
Don't take your problems out on me
And the rest of you muthaf*ckas
Walkin around lookin like some old alien niggas

Muthaf*cka, I pull your face off
'bout to show you what the f*ck you look like
Cause you keep it real
Too real muthaf*ckin broke
2001
Nobody was sayin that shit when I was payin for them f*ckin hot wings
Hope you burn your f*ckin lips

F*CK YOU
Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU
Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU
Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU

ASSHOLE
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




So what you got your first deal?
Who you signed with, nigga?
Epic?
Def Jam?
I don't give a f*ck if you're with Warner Bros.
Who you signed with, nigga?
Muthaf*ckin Loud?
Interscope, Columbia, Sony, 550
F*ck it if you're with Dreamworks
And if is, your in-house commercial-ass producers
Can suck out the interior out of my dick
Y'all still 75, that ain't no new shit
Fake-ass wanna-be hip-hop shit
Don't worry about who the f*ck I hang with
Jealous muthaf*ckas

I'm tired of niggas fooling muthaf*ckas
Actin like they drug dealers
All you rappers fantasizin that jewelry and car shit
You can pull the Speedos and suck my dick
Tell your corny fans who believe that shit
Lick the back of my ass quick
I'ma shut faggots down
Especially muthaf*ckas with that gay-ass production
New millenium homo sound
Smack the shit out of you for doin that wack-ass shit you do
50 bodyguards surround you
Keepin men that f*ck you in the ass around you
Standin like you runnin shit, you ain't the f*ckin President
Posin with ugly bitches in your video who take AIDS medicine
You don't wanna f*ck with me or rock with me
Or rhyme on any block with me
F*ck the rap museum
I should be on the wall next to Run-D.M.C.
Between Public Enemy
Some assholes jealous me
I don't care no more about your lyrics
The average MC is bullshit, I don't hear it
F*ck you talkin about you rap with a good spirit
I make rappers intimidated
Over wack-ass beats they get motivated, some have ministrated
Even suburban kids copy your shit and duplicate it
My balls you now cherish
By some new-ass MC about to perish
Type of muthaf*cka to eat a lotta celery
Your CD was butter-soft - what you tellin me?
A bunch of 'N Sync type of fans hyped you up like Bill Bellamy
A bitch like you would rhyme with a curfew
Niggas with real shit will hurt you
The girl scout club I refer you
Bastard you
Your man rap, new nigga, he's wack, f*ck you
Stay low, I'm above you
Erase your shit, I don't dub you
F*CK YOU
F*CK YOU

Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU

Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU

Yeah
You been rappin for 20'000 years
And you ain't got your f*ckin deal yet?
What the f*ck
Don't take your problems out on me
And the rest of you muthaf*ckas
Walkin around lookin like some old alien niggas

Muthaf*cka, I pull your face off
'bout to show you what the f*ck you look like
Cause you keep it real
Too real muthaf*ckin broke
2001
Nobody was sayin that shit when I was payin for them f*ckin hot wings
Hope you burn your f*ckin lips

F*CK YOU
Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU
Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU
Muthaf*cka
F*CK YOU

ASSHOLE
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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