Let's Get It - Lyrics - G-dep

(Black Rob) *Mumbling* (G-Dep) Really, Get smacked silly, you get smacked silly F**king with these *** from the, what you gonna do When you ready, *** I was born ready, And I was all ready on fish and spaghetti Creep with the culture, rap I can coach ya, attack like a vulture If I said I get cha, wear it if it fit ya, y'all thirteen inches I see the big picture, if it's to get richer, I'd probably get wit ya If not burn it, get hot like a furnace Shoot the video, motherf**k city permits We own the city, on the phone with Diddy (*phone sounds*) Red bone pretty, when she get aroused like to suck her own *** Put it in the video Ya wanna holla got to follow *** here we go Get you ticket, the train, don't miss it Won't reach out, and ya bet I won't visit Till my whole wardrobe is-it, now listen (Chorus) (G-Dep & Black Rob (Puffy)) Make this money Take this money (Let's get it) Ain't no way you can take this from me (Let's get it) Ain't *** funny (uh) Shake it honey (Let's get it) Take it money Now let's get it (Let's get it) (G-Dep) Creep with your people, though my *** is sweet and low it's no equal Front butch look, once I throw the hook you proceed to get cook With the game and the soldiers sit, When I came, the game that I owed you one Wide big Lincoln, why he died on the side for the stinking Watch the task force task for look Marlboro It's a big chance, big pants, Might guard him with my man's a type barber Better learn quick, cause my clique don't argue You ain't my crew, then who are you For we take off make sure that your seated Billboard read it believe it (Chorus) (G-Dep) Soul Controller, rap Itola, kids hate me when they older I put cracks by the stroller, registered voter, motherf**ker quota Give some baking soda and a quota Man I flow straight up out the water, I'm break this game till it say out of order Who's the high scorer, then tear the floor up On the world tour with your *** out in Europe, head on the tour bus Do what them *** them *** in the drop thinks cooler All the five quarters, headline supporters, Hitting wives and daughters Brought a neck spray from Esate Lauders Call Puffy to order (P-Diddy) Ayo, call me Diddy I run this city, Send the cops, the feds and D.A to come get me Cats wanna leave me for dead you coming with me Get head in the Bentley red at one fifty Straight lose it, love two things my money my music Might co-write and produce it Drop mine, hot 9 exclusive, got y'all hulking like Bruce did Deuce it, break backs and stacks it's no problem Make raps and tracks and go Harlem Get worldwide coverage, got so many spots I don't even buy luggage Ya love it Make moves major, hide out in Asia, If your girl keep coming around them I'm a blaze her I'm the Bad Boy flavor, light blue gators NOT GUILTY Plus I'm filthy C'mon (Chorus) (Black Rob (Puffy)) I be the east side Soprano, Rob Marciano Flow in each channel with the Iverson handle Forty-five sparks turn your day gray flannel *** the yay of the mantle, then proceed to dismantle Can't slay Rob, how many *** done tried to play mob, Quit they day job Tired of putting broke *** under the wing If I go to jail again I'm going under the bing Act like you gonna pull that thing thing You the only one that always get stuck for bling bling I represent eight blocks and Sing-Sing Almost caught a buck fifty for f**king with Latch in Killer Queens Moves for paper, moves no chaser Bullets out the blazer four-fifths with laser Come and get your *** splitted, newspapers say I did it (He ain't do it) Now let's get it (Let's get it) (Chorus) (x3)