Will Smith — To the Clique

[Verse] Uh, uh, it's twenty years of swag, y'all just witnessed Let me remind everybody who Will Smith is Rappers make it rain, let they money hit ya If I throw my money up, shit, I'd probably kill a stripper The illest, realest, Big Will-est Down with the man in charge of where Uncle Phil is Everybody wanna do Will Smith numbers I don't know if your life got that many summers I got inspired, quickly, I unretired, the Fresh Prince just re-wired I'm slightly modified, but still People dancing and shaking and moving and wiling I feel like I'm an alien, really, kind of an island I might fly to China for nothing, find a designer Fix up a crib with me, my mom and Obama Murder all over the globe, guilty, your honor Rather become a Mormon, marrying Halle, Rihanna I'm an anomaly, do drama or comedy I could play Muhammud Ali or a white lady probably Still, twenty years of swag y'all just witnessed Stop the divorce rumors and mind your damn business Rebirth of the click track, ridiculous What I charge for a feature, man, that's expensive Cause y'all be doing features, I be doing Features So many tickets that theaters need bleachers More information from me than from most teachers More inspiration from me than from most preachers But wait, wait, wait, wait, truly, just for the record Directors make movies, I make directors Y'all dinner table: "What y'all learn today?" My dinner table: "What y'all earn today?" The real life Incredibles, last name Smith Jada, Jaden, Willow, Trey, shit, y'all ain't fucking with my clique