T.I. — You Know What It Is

[Intro: Wyclef Jean and T.I.] Ayy, boy, don't spill my drink boy Ba-lip! Now, listen (Grand Hustle homie) Everybody report to the bloodclaat dance floor (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy) Wyclef, "All Hands on Deck" You love the beat? (Boy you know what it is, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy) Yo, Tip, talk to me, bloodclaat! [Chorus: T.I.] I'm a real nigga, homie, tote 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'm 'bout that drama, you don't want no problems I'll 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 [Post-Chorus: Wyclef Jean] Yo T.I.P., let them likkle rap boys know how you living [Verse 1: 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 (Okay) Five cash for the crib on the back of the lake (C'mon) I'm up in Crucial two-steppin with the gat in the waist T.I. ain't in the street no more, 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 (Ha!) 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 [Chorus: T.I.] I'm a real nigga, homie, tote six figures on me (That's right) Got a pistol you don't want it, boy, you what what it is Ayy, I'm way flyer, my pay's way higher (Okay) If they ever mention sire, boy, you know what it is (Ba-lip!) I'm 'bout that drama, you don't want no problems I'll 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 [Post-Chorus: Wyclef Jean] Yo T.I.P. some boys wan' playa hate Let them know who the King of the South is Talk to them! [Verse 2: 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 (That's right) 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 (Ya dig?) You wanna know how much I'm making? Just imagine a lot You know I'm probably gettin' more that you'd imagined I got (Ayy) Listen close, I need to know if you understand me or not Because you disrespectin' me, you and your man'll be shot (Bow!) [Chorus: T.I.] I'm a real nigga, homie, tote six figures on me (That's right) Got a pistol you don't want it, boy, you what what it is Ayy, I'm way flyer, my pay's way higher (Okay) If they ever mention sire, boy, you know what it is (Hey) I'm 'bout that drama, you don't want no problems (Nah) I'll up that llama, boy, you know what it is Ayy, I get money, all I count is big money Dick is all she get from me, boy, you know what is Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, boy, you know what it is, nigga [Post-Chorus: Wyclef Jean] Why y'all take shot, cause I'm movin? We'll pop you in your chest boy [Verse 3: T.I.] Went 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 of 'em for a million today Frank Lucas ain't the only one who made a million a day Boy, it's a American Gangster right here in your face And you don't wanna see P$C on the scene with a K You think you runnin' up and robbin', that ain't even the case And just because you get away, that don't mean it's okay You a dead man walkin' and I mean it, okay? Hey [Chorus: T.I.] I'm a real nigga, homie, tote six figures on me (That's right) Got a pistol you don't want it, boy, you what what it is Ayy, I'm way flyer, my pay's way higher (Okay) If they ever mention sire, boy, you know what it is (Ba-lip!) I'm 'bout that drama, you don't want no problems I'll up that llama, boy, you know what it is Ayy, I get money, all I count is big money Dick is all she get from me, boy, you know what is Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, boy, you know what it is, nigga [Outro: Wyclef Jean and T.I.] Some of them boys wan' talk 'bout they have done They guns sound like popcorn, yeah When the King of the South Boy you know what it is Get with the King of Haiti, big up Jamaica Expect this Boy you know what it is Bloodclaat gorillas a-come out Ha, ay, boy, you know what it is And when that fire don't pop, come and gone We have big long machine guns then And when we pull them back Choppers'll hang you Blap, blap, blap, blap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap You like the beat? Ha, they better We can sell you one, y'know Well, bop your head then, okay? Yo big up to Ayiti! Hey! I'm the king, all the way to the ATL Bankhead, okay Yo, big up the whole South, East West North Grand Hustle homie Yo, London, Japan Hey Yeah P$C Yo, Tip, respect Ha, yeah