"To The Clique" lyrics

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