[Intro]
You should never argue with a crazy mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-nd
You oughta know by now, you oughta know by you can pay
You should never argue with a crazy mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mi
Is that all you get for your money

[Chorus: Kool A.D.]
You should never argue with a
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na, you oughta know by now
You should never argue with a crazy ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma
You oughta knowwwww-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da
You na never argue with a crazy na-na-na-na-na-na
You oughta know by now
You should never argue widdo doo-doo-da-da-da-da
Okay, okay

[Verse 1: Kool AD]
Chasin' venture paper, like what Twitter get
Sick of arguing with white dudes on the internet
When I'm gassed on my own black pass, like how a wigger get
I like to slow it down with a marijuana cigarette
Occasionally with powders in it, yes, talcum-fresh
Yeah, good hair, you could say I'm Malcolmesque
Like the tresses, like the dresses, flowy and sexy
Spin-off, blow up, Joanie and Chechny
Yeah, ride MARTA to this Georgia Dome
Caucasian wars cream topical, like cortisone
Leave a message on my phone, I'm only sort of home
The rest of me is sort of in the zone where the dodos roam
They're all up on the tube, no protostome
Hacksaw, slack-jawed, like they short a chromosome
Leave your boy alone like Michael, Latoya homes
A rich interior world's a joy to own, 'cause
[Chorus 2: Kool A.D.]
You should never argue with a
Um-la-la-la-la-la-la you oughta know by now
You should never argue with a crazy ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma
You oughta knowwwww-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da
You na never argue with a crazy na-na-na-na-na-na
You oughta know by now
You should never argue widdo doo-doo-da-da-da-da
Go in, okay

[Verse 2: Heems]
I get around like a vinyl
All sales final, Lionel Richie
I'm so gangsta, prissy
Chicks don't wanna fuck with me
Yet me people seem to let me
Get away with wildin' like I won an Emmy
Grammy, Tony, Oscar, rasta impostors
Mangos, Trinidad attorneys
Burning S.N.S. Herning, learning cultures
Culture vultures' sculptures, nature-nurture
Public freak-outs
If you got a problem, find me, speak out, speak out
Dead in the middle of Little Idli, Sambar, Dosa
Told ya, find me blowing dolja
No more smoking doja
You should know now
Know how I do what I do
I drink, I think, I chew two blues, one pink
[Chorus 3: Heems]