So what if you flip a couple words I could triple at them birds, open your mind you see the circus in the sky. I'm Ringling brothers Barnum Bailey with the pies, no matter how you slice it I'm your mother fucking guy Just like a b-boy with 360 waves I do the same with the pot, still come back beige. Whether writers are par, whether the powder with yal whip it around, it still comes back hard. So easily do I W-H-I-P, my repitition with kilos will bring you kilo digits. I got kreole C-O from my niggas who slipped, became prisoners, trees taped to the visitors. You already know what the business is Unnecessary commissary, boy we live this shit. Wanna bring the 80s back, that's okay with me, that's where they made me at. Except I don't write on the wall, I write my name in the history books, hustling in the hall Nah, I don't spin on my head I spin work in the pots so I can spend my bread
Chorus: And I'm getting it I'm getting it I aint talking about it, I'm living it I'm getting it, straight getting it Get get get get get get get it boy (Don't waste you time, fighting the law, state your voice, and you'll understand) Get it boy
Eighty 7 state of mind that I'm in, In my prime, so for that time, I'm Rakim If it wasn't for those crimes that I'm in But I wouldn't be the guy that rhymed in the airs (nikes) that I'm in Don't pay no profit, P (Pharrell) I'll repeat it to show you where the pot is Cherry M3s with the top back Read and green Gs are on my hat North beach leathers, matching Gucci sweater, Gucci sneaks on to keep my outfit together Whatever, hundred for the diamond chain Can't you tell that I came from the dope game Blame Reagan for making me into a monster Blame Oliver north and Iran-Contra I ran contraband that they sponsored Before this rhyming stuff we was in concert
Chorus: And I'm getting it I'm getting it I aint talking about it, I'm living it I'm getting it, straight getting it Get get get get get get get it boy (Don't waste you time, fighting the law, state your voice, and you'll understand) Get it boy
Push, money over broads you got it, Bush Chef, guess what I cooked We baked a lot of bread, and kept it off the books (financial reports, lol) Rockstars, look, way before the bars my picture was getting took Feds, they like wack rappers. Try as they may they couldn't get me on the hook D.A. wanna indite me, cuz fish scales in my veins like a pisces The pyrex pack under my sleeve, turn one into two like a Siamese twin when it end and I'm saying as a man I'll die in Armani, last of a dying breed So let the champagne pop, I partied for a while now I'm back to the Block.
Chorus: And I'm getting it I'm getting it I aint talking about it, I'm living it I'm getting it, straight getting it Get get get get get get get it boy (Don't waste you time, fighting the law, state your voice, and you'll understand) Get it boy