"I GOT THAT" lyrics

Man, fuck Russell Peters, that fool got one leg talkin' 'bout he about to run it up
Your mama got lace front pussy hair, but weave (we've) all seen this before

I got some shit, man
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all

[Ras Kass:]
When I die want a pyramid off the 105
So you can see it next to LAX when you drive by
Big LED screens to light up the sky
And my mind converted to AI
So, my great-grandkids can talk to BaBa with Wi-Fi
And ask why Ras slicker than KY
I got sleep apnea
Why you sleeping on me?
I got a chip on my shoulder and a fucking bad knee

[Ras Austin:]
I got that. Ugh! That funky
That wet hair, honky
That dog in me. I ball hard
'Til God give me my shot
My spot's finna boss up. Ain't just flunky
Y'all in the mirror like Monkey
See monkey do and it do look wonky
I got that drug mule donkey
Even my half-ass shit is crack. No gas, I hit them tracks like junkie
So, if you need that, I got that, homie

[Inspectah Deck:]
We drop that shit, you cop that shit
See us real time, no, we got that shit
According to the blood test, they say it's in my DNA
The cryolab said they'd even pay

I got two Os of gelato
I got flow cold in Chicago
Six feet four, I stand on business
Bet y'all crash the whip off this shit
Really, y'all?

I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all

I got a whole lot to say, not a whole lot of time
I travel on the path with the tribe, check the rhyme
I display shine like a jewelry store
That's what the groupies saw
I keep smoke like a humidor

Pay attention to the speaker with the keynote
I got about an hour, then I gotta see the PO
Hit me on speed-dial I got what you need
The real hip-hop, block work for the fiends

[Taj Austin:]
Save, save what you got for your bad-ass cousin
Remember me? Uncle Sam's son. Boy, I'm leaving here with something
Of yours, 'cause there's something on my mind
All these nigga out of pocket, make the wallet hard to find
For the "whoop whoop" criminal
Bars make the microphone fiend take chemicals
Streaming through the ventricles
I got love for the game, got the heart to match
I got the world in my palm. Yeah I got it like that

[Lil Durk:]
My feature verse
Murder for hire. I'm Lil Durk
Only time I'm really spiritual is pouring a Port
Almost moved to Puerto Rico, popping a cork
Proposed to by a princess, but Papa a jerk
'Cause my pullout game is nice, cock blocking the stork
More committed to work, devastated, her feelings was hurt
I got trust issues, got a lust demon
Rappers I must diss you, but I got no reason

I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all
I got that shit, y'all