Mista mista
clef: mista mista, can i get five dollars, so i can get something to eat
Hell no mf, you can't get no money from me
Cause every time i give you a dollar
You go get shot up with more and more needles
And you tell me that you're drug free
Drug free mista mista, i haven't ate anything for a week
Can i get a quarter? hell no mf, what can a quarter get you?
Nothing mf, you are just fucked up
Off them fucked up drugs, you know you need to leave alone
But you keep telling me that you're drug free
Mf, you ain't drug free, you're a fiend
And every time i try to help you
You pretend as if it's okay
Then later on in the week
You go back to shootin' needles, to sniffin', oh mf, but you told me you were
Drug free drug free
You ain't drug free mf
So you damn well, can't get no mfin' money from me.
We're permanent one wyclef, preacher's son, ichi bang, listen mrs. tin
Can i'm your candy handy
And my memoir be
Reminding me of eating
Calamari in the khalahari with a band of rhastafari.