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Trapmuzik's picture
on June 25, 2010 - 11:52am


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Average: 4.5 (2 votes)

You niggas ain't raw
I don't buy none a that bullshit you tellin' me
King you'll never be, I can see you niggas ain't raw
Hell naw, give a damn who you go and get
Real niggas know it we can notice that you niggas ain't raw
Even know now you 'posed to be down with so and so
Still the same lame from a year ago, I know you ain't raw
You ain't graduated with the gladiators, you just practice for the young assassinators
You know you ain't raw

Fuck that shit you tellin' us
I know you ain't shit as us
You ain't no competitor, that shit there ain't scarin' us
You bought ya self a slaughterin' a coffin's what you headed for
You ain't wanna die well nigga what you pull a weapon for?
Just cause we the niggas all of yo hoe bitches checkin' for
and ain't nobody real niggas rather hear instead of us
You ain't out shinin us, you ain't out sellin' us
A lot of niggas do it don't nobody do it well as us
Hater wanna flex with us
Let em get vested up
Hit em with the choppa chest and up, bet I wet cha up
Let cha partna get cha up, ain't nobody catchin' us
But this some shit I'm bound to receive a lethal injection for
King of the whole thing, fuck whoever steppin' up
Give a damn whoever behind him, care about who catchin' up
Long as I'm alive the second best you have to settle for
Come on now you really think you betta, bruh


I got 44's glowing on a boat just goin'
This bitch, his bitch, and yo bitch blowin'
Young pimpin' get dough like his last name Cohen
My fan base spread and the shit kept growing
that what got me getting head in the vessel
of the G4 again hook a hustle up with investors
now there he go again
Twenty million later I guessin' it finally soakin' in
unless you just a hater who mad at me cause he broke again
Sellin' all his jewelry considerin' sellin' dope again
cuz he was ballin' out of control and posed to be focusin'
Wanna be the king by default they hopin' for openin'
Pray the see the day they hear me say I never flow again
But au contraire I guarantee one year after another they'll suffer as long as I'm here
Fear no man alive I don't care, you don't run shit nigga be clear

[Chorus 2x]

4. "You Know What It Is"
(feat. Wyclef Jean)

[Intro: Wyclef Jean (T.I.)]
Ay boy, don't 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.]
I'm a real nigga homie, throw six figures on me
Got a pistol you don't want it, boy you what what it is
Ay, I'm way flyer, my pay's way higher
If they ever mention sire boy you know what it is
I got that drama, you don't 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

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, I'm 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
I'm up in Crucial two-steppin with the gat in the waist
T.I. ain't in the street no mo', fo'-fo', is that what they say?
Don't even try him when you see him boy you have to be great
Cause this pistol hit you in your face, your teeth they'll have to replace
That's if you lucky nigga trust me, it don't hurt me to take
100 thousand to them Haitians you'll be murdered today, nigga


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, I'm 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, ain't a car I ain't got
I'm the number one customer at my own car lot
You wanna know how much I'm makin, just imagine a lot
You know I'm probably gettin more that you'd imagined I got
Listen close, I need to know if you understand me or not
Because you disrespectin me, you and your man'll be shot


Why y'all take shot, cause I'm movin?
We'll 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 ain't the only one who made a million a day
But it's a American gangsta right here in your face
And you don't wanna see P$C on the scene with a K
You think you runnin up and robbin, that ain't even the case
And just because you get away, that don't mean it's okay
You a dead man walkin and I mean it, okay? Hey


[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 don't pop, come and gone
We have big LONG machine guns then
And when we pull them back (choppers'll hang you)
BLAP, BLAP, BLAP, BLAP! Bap-bap-bap-bap-bap!
You like the beat? (hahhh, they better)
We can sell you one y'know (well bop ya head then, okay)
Yo big up to Haiti! (hey!)
I'm 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)

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