Текст песни T.I. — You Know What It Is
(feat. Wyclef Jean)
[Intro: Wyclef Jean (T.I.)]
Ay boy, dont spill my drink boy, ba-lip!
Now listen (Grand Hustle homie)
Everybody report to the bloodclaat dance floor (ay, ay, ay, ay)
Wyclef, "All Hands on Deck" - you love the beat?
(Boy you know what it is, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay)
Yo Tip, talk to me bloodclaat
[Chorus: T.I.]
Im a real nigga homie, throw six figures on me
Got a pistol you dont want it, boy you what what it is
Ay, Im way flyer, my pays way higher
If they ever mention sire boy you know what it is
I got that drama, you dont want no problems
Dial up that llama, boy you know what it is
Ay, I get money, all I count is big money
Dick is all she get from me, boy you know what is
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay - boy you know what it is nigga
[Wyclef]
Yo T.I.P., let them likkle rap boys know how you livin
[Verse One: T.I.]
The wait is over, here we go again, Im back into play
Gon sell another couple mil and take it back to the A
Gon take that other couple mil and put it back in the safe
Five cash for the crib on the back of the lake
Im up in Crucial two-steppin with the gat in the waist
T.I. aint in the street no mo, fo-fo, is that what they say?
Dont even try him when you see him boy you have to be great
Cause this pistol hit you in your face, your teeth theyll have to replace
Thats if you lucky nigga trust me, it dont hurt me to take
100 thousand to them Haitians youll be murdered today, nigga
[Chorus]
[Wyclef]
Yo T.I.P. some boys wan playa hate
Let them know who the King of the South is, talk to them!
[Verse Two: T.I.]
Well they sweatin when they see me, Im apparently hot
Had the album of the year nigga, Grammy or not
Remember, all day I used to stay in the spot
With two revolvers in my pocket, pitch a hand of that rock
And now, chart toppin, aint a car I aint got
Im the number one customer at my own car lot
You wanna know how much Im makin, just imagine a lot
You know Im probably gettin more that youd imagined I got
Listen close, I need to know if you understand me or not
Because you disrespectin me, you and your manll be shot
[Chorus]
[Wyclef]
Why yall take shot, cause Im movin?
Well pop you in your chest boy
[Verse Three: T.I.]
Well from the King of the South to the King of the States
Ridin in a car you probably never seen in the states
No idea how much yay I can bring in the states
Hey you can get a hundred on em for a million today
Frank Lucas aint the only one who made a million a day
But its a American gangsta right here in your face
And you dont wanna see P$C on the scene with a K
You think you runnin up and robbin, that aint even the case
And just because you get away, that dont mean its okay
You a dead man walkin and I mean it, okay? Hey
[Chorus]
[Outro: Wyclef Jean (T.I.)]
Some of them boys wan talk bout they have done
They guns sound like popcorn, ya
When the King of the South (boy you know what it is)
Get with the King of Haiti, big up Jamaica
Expect this (boy you know what it is)
Bloodclaat gorillas a-come out (hahhh, ay, boy you know what it is)
And when that fire dont pop, come and gone
We have big LONG machine guns then
And when we pull them back (choppersll hang you)
BLAP, BLAP, BLAP, BLAP! Bap-bap-bap-bap-bap!
You like the beat? (hahhh, they better)
We can sell you one yknow (well bop ya head then, okay)
Yo big up to Haiti! (hey!)
Im the king, all the way to the ATL (Bankhead, okay)
Yo big up the whole South, East West North (Grand Hustle homie)
Yo London! Japan (HEY) yeah (P$C)
Yo Tip, respect (hahhh, yeah)