Testo Get Your Sh** Right - Jermaine Dupri
Testo della canzone Get Your Sh** Right (Jermaine Dupri), tratta dall'album Life In 1472 (The Original Soundtrack)
Yeah
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
First off, y'all niggas know I don't slouch
And as a kid, I done did the shit they talkin' about
I'm from the South, ya heard? Where niggas fly birds outta Impalas
Live lavish from ATL to Dallas in a little palace
Goin' once, goin' twice, every day, livin' nice
In the grave with the ice, makin' money, rollin' dice
Livin' the life that y'all dream of
Puttin' hoes outta business like Sony did to C-Note
You seen us, the green stuff and nothin' else, that's all I collect
I got the hots like The Lox — money, power, respect
And I can damn-cha check any of y'all niggas spittin'
I stay hittin', I ain't bullshittin'
With more glitter than MJ
It's all pimp play when it comes to me
And y'all motherfuckers know how JD gets down
And those that don't, it's a new sheriff in town
Feel me now
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
Yo, mad rapper, baby
Brooklyn
Now let me tell y'all why I'm mad, y'all, shit is kinda sad, y'all
If you ride the buses or trains, watch your bag, y'all
Hooptie keep stallin', I still ain't ballin'
And I got wild bills and the cops keep callin'
My dogs wanna hang, my bitches wanna bang
But it don't mean a thang when all you got is change
That's why my women ain't dimes, not even close to nines
Sorta like fives and sixes with scars and stitches
Type of motherfucker to spit in your face like Alomar
Broke-ass niggas outta cars snatchin' fruits from a salad bar
Which one of y'all gon' wan' test me now?
Me not goin' nowhere, you don't impress me now
So next time you see me up in them clubs, I'm probably schemin'
While you at the bar, brick-hard and fiendin'
I wait for four o'clock when your drunk-ass is leavin'
'Cause I paid to get in and now I gotta break even, what?
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
Throw in the party, thousand-dollar shoes and jewels
You begets what I be wantin', so I be bringin' the tool
Tryna snatch up all that ice that you came with
And the shit ain't even flippin' (Yeah, money)
It's the same shit, shit you thought
'Cause you bought a jack shit
You might be able to creep with the pimp when he ain't on point
And I can see it in your eyes that you comin' closer to tryin'
And every step you take brings your ass closer to dyin'
See, I don't flow for the dough 'cause money comes and goes
Give me the love for my thugs, hoodrats and hoods and I'm good
This the shit I understand in the hood
And I'm gon' rip 'til I'm stiff like wood
You wishin' that you could keep it as real as me
And you gon' know that the pain that you feel is me
When I get ill and beat some neck in your shit
Dark Man and M, all the action, perfection, respect, bitch
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
To all my bitches in the spot lookin' real fly
And all my niggas with they corner locked gettin' high
And all my playas worldwide, it's just you and I
Get your paper, get your dough, get your shit right
Credits
Writer(s): Earl Simmons, Jermaine Dupri, Rahman Griffin, Henri Charlemagne, Deric Angelettie
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