T.I. - You Know What It Is lyrics

Ay, boy don't spill my drink boy, pull it Now listen, (Grand Hustle homie) Everybody report to the bloodclot dancefloor Wyclef all hands on deck (you love the beat) (Boy, you know what it is) Ay, (brat), Ay (brat), Ay (brat) Yo T.I.P, talk to them bloodclot I'm a real n***a, homie Show six figga's on me I got a pistol, you don't want it Boy, you know what it is I'm way flyer My pay is way higher If they ever mention sire Boy, you know what it is About that drama You don't want no problems Gotta love that lama Boy, you know what it is I get money All I count is big money This is all you get from me Boy, you know what it is Yo T.I.P., let them Little Rock boys know how you movin' Boy, you know what it is The wait is over here we go again I'm back in the plate Gon' sell another couple mill and take it back to tha 'A Gon' take that other couple mill and put it back in the safe Five carats for the crib on the back of the lake I'm iup in Crucial, two steppin' with the gat in the waist T.I. ain't in the streets no more fo sho, is that what they say? No more cryin' when you sayin', "Boy, you have to be great." 'Cause that pistol will hit ya in ya face yall peeps will have to replate That's if you like it and if ya trust me it wont hurt me to take A hundred thousand to them Haitians you'll be murdered today I'm a real n***a, homie Show six figga's on me I got a pistol, you don't want it Boy, you know what it is I'm way flyer My pay is way higher If they ever mention sire Boy, you know what it is About that drama You don't want no problems Gotta love that lama Boy, you know what it is I get money All I count is big money This is all you get from me Boy, you know what it is Yo T.I.P, some boy wanna playa hate Let 'em know who tha king of the south is Talk to 'em Women sweatin' when they see me, I'm apparently hot Had the album of the year n***a, Grammy or not Remember all day I used to stand in one spot Two revolvers in my pocket pitchin' handlin' rocks See me now choppin', there ain't a car I ain't got I'm the #1 customer at my own car lot If ya wanna know how much I make just imagine a lot Even though I prolly gettin' more then you'd imagine I got Listen close I need to know if you understand me or not Because if ya disrespecting' me, you and your man'll get shot I'm a real n***a, homie Show six figga's on me I got a pistol, you don't want it Boy, you know what it is I'm way flyer My pay is way higher If they ever mention sire Boy, you know what it is About that drama You don't want no problems Gotta love that lama Boy, you know what it is I get money All I count is big money This is all you get from me Boy, you know what it is 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 You could get a hundred of 'em for a million today Frank Lucas ain't the only one who made a million a day But it's an American Gangsta right here in ya face And you don't wanna see PSC on the scene with a "K" You think you running and robbin', but that aint even the case And just because you get away that don't mean it's okay You a dead man walking and I mean it, okay I'm a real n***a, homie Show six figga's on me I got a pistol, you don't want it Boy, you know what it is I'm way flyer My pay is way higher If they ever mention sire Boy, you know what it is About that drama You don't want no problems Gotta love that lama Boy, you know what it is I get money All I count is big money This is all you get from me Boy, you know what it is Some of dem boys want to talk what they have done They guns sound like popcorn Yo, you the king of the south? Boy, you know what it is Boy, you know what it is Boy, you know what it is Boy, you know what it is