Roc-A-Fella Records
The imperial Skateboard P
Great Hova
Y'all already know what it is (oh shit)
C'mon (woo)

Yeah, so what if you flip a couple words?
I could triple that in birds
Open your mind you see the circus in the sky
I'm Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey with the pies
No matter how you slice it, I'm your motherfucking guy
And just like a b-boy with 360 waves
Do the same with the pot, still come back beige
Whether right or southpaw, whether pot or the jar
Whip it around, it still comes back hard
So easily do I W-H-I-P
My repetition with wristses'll bring you kilo bidness
I got Creole C.O. bitches
For my niggas who slipped, became prisoners
Trees taped to the visitors
You already know what the bidness is
Unnecessary commissary, boy, we live this shit
Niggas wanna bring the 80s back
That's okay with me, that's where they made me at
Except I don't write on the wall
I write my name in the history books
Hustling in the hall (hustling in the hall)
Nah, I don't spin on my head
I spin my work in the pots, so I can spend my bread

And I'm gettin' it, I'm gettin' it
I ain't talkin' about it, I'm livin' it
I'm gettin' it, straight gettin' it
Ge-ge-ge-get get get it boy
Don't waste your time
Fighting the life
Stay your course
And you'll understand
Get it boy

This '87 state of mind that I'm in (mind that I'm in)
In my prime, so for that time, I'm Rakim (I'm Rakim)
If it wasn't for the crime that I was in
But I wouldn't be the guy whose rhymes it is that I'm in (that I'm in)
No pain, no profit, P I repeat if you show me where the pot is (pot is)
Cherry M3's with the top back (top back)
Red and green G's all on my hat
North Beach leathers, matching Gucci sweater
Gucci sneaks on to keep my outfit together
Whatever, hundred for the diamond chain
Can't you tell that I came from the dope game
Blame Reagan for making me into a monster
Blame Oliver North and Iran-Contra
I ran contraband that they sponsored
Before this rhyming stuff we was in concert

And I'm gettin' it, I'm gettin' it
I ain't talkin' about it, I'm livin' it
I'm gettin' it, straight gettin' it
Ge-ge-ge-get get get it boy
Don't waste your time
Fighting the life
Stay your course
And you'll understand
Get it boy

Push (push) money over broads, you got it, fuck Bush
Chef (chef), guess what I cooked?
Baked a lot of bread and kept it off the books
Rockstar, look, way before the bars my picture was getting took
Feds, they like wack rappers
Tried as they may, couldn't get me on the hook, uh
D.A. wanna indict me
'Cause fish scales in my veins like a Pisces
The Pyrex pot, rolled up my sleeves
Turn one into two like a Siamese twin
When it end, I'ma stand as a man
Never dying on my knees
Last of a dying breed, so let the champagne pop
I partied for a while now I'm back to the block

And I'm gettin' it, I'm gettin' it
I ain't talkin' about it, I'm livin' it
I'm gettin' it, straight gettin' it
Ge-ge-ge-get get get it boy
Don't waste your time
Fighting the life
Stay your course
And you'll understand
Get it boy

Blue Magic, that's a brand name
Like Pepsi, that's a brand name
I stand behind it, I guarantee it
They know that, even if they don't know me anymore than they know the
The Chairmain of General Mills
My man Writer/s: Bernhard Kaun, Cindy Ann Braggs, Dawn Sherrice Robinson, Denzil Delano Foster, Maxine Jones, Pharrell L. Williams, Shawn C. Carter, Terry L. Ellis, Thomas Derrick McElroy
Publisher: Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind