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Song Title

T.I.- I'm Illy Lyrics

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T.I.- I’m Illy Lyrics

[T.I.]
Rapper for the hell of it, hella rich
Never have to sell a brick again, must I tell a bitch again
The bullshit I’m addressing check I’m on some next level shit
Never been fucked in the game, I’m celibate
Rarely out my element, barely out the ghetto with
One foot out and one foot in, intelligent as fellas get
Listen let’s settle this – be clear
I could fall back seven years, still it ain’t no one ahead of me
Consider it a blessing if you get to stand next to me
Five star general, O.G. veteran
Caked like Entenmann’s, blowing that celery
Stack that cash like the U.S. Treasury
Every single thing I ever did was done heavily
Rap until you’re 70, still ain’t no catchin me
Put it on my pops, Big Phil, Aunt Beverly
Be standing on the top still after they bury me
Nose in the air so stuck up arrogant
Ain’t got long hot songs, best cherish it
Cool when I drop mine that’s over, finito
You paying for your foul like a free throw, baow!
Now, how could a nigga think that he could see me
Other than the magazine covers or the TV
Know I sold more mixtapes than your CD
You’re waiting on your big break, praying you could be me
You ain’t made it far as D.C., on the low
I been all around the globe like a God how they treat me
Broads hit they knees, eyes closed when they greet me
Mouth wide open just, beggin me to skeet-skeet
You in a deep sleep, stop dreaming
I’m six albums in for 10 years I been five hot steaming
The limelight’s mine, I’m gleaming, beaming
That’s why I say I’m King bitch I got my reasons

[Chorus: T.I.]
Wrist so frosty, neck so chilly (bing)
All on my mind is to get more millies (what?)
Niggaz talk shit that’s silly (HA!)
Shawty he ain’t about that really (nah) is he? (AY!)
Nigga I’m illy (yeah)
Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, hey
Ay, I run this city, clearly (BANKHEAD!)
Tell ‘em get lost, I’m busy, really?
Nigga I’m illy

[T.I.]
Where niggaz get off? Piss off!
Me and mine oughta take time to pop a lid off
Shit all, over the whereabouts of me, is y’all
sick in yo’ fucking mind, you figurine I’ma fizz off
Never cooled off, Tip scorching
Minimal injury thought they wishing me maximum misfortune
Number one hands down, flows paint portraits
Everybody thinks you stink like horse shit
House full of chicks on some “Girl Next Door” shit
A king who once sell 30 mil’ out the store quick
Of course this case lost all my endorsements
Tripled up on real estate, still buying more shit
But Tip bankrupt according to your sources
I’m still caked up along with more reinforcements
Tore shit, up from the lab up to the rooftops
Officially, the hottest nigga rappin since 2Pac
‘Fore you rap ’bout me, best ask ’bout me
I’m out my fucking mind, need counseling
Please don’t doubt me, trust me, drama ain’t nothing
It’s all fun and games ’til somebody start bustin
‘Member my discussion when rappers be battling
I find out about it, better get to skedaddling
Pack your family bags, move ‘em out to Seattle and
We ever cross paths you’ll need ambulance and bandages
Live life glamorous, so extravagant
Mandarin, oriental worldwide travelling
Hip-Hop champion, for real though
You couldn’t fuck with me with a Brazil hoe nigga, but still though

[Chorus - 2X]

[T.I. - over Chorus]
Hahaha, HEY…
Ay just remember I do this shit when I want to nigga
It’s me nigga!
Zone One homie
Yeah, yeah…
I don’t wanna hear shit ’bout I can’t rap like this
when I ain’t did it that way nigga
FUCK you partner!
Yeah!

Yeah – this the king, bitch!

[T.I.- I'm Illy Lyrics]



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Writer(s): Charles Spencer, Clifford Harris Copyright: Reach Global Inc., Crown Club Publishing, Warner-tamerlane Publishing Corp. Lyrics powered by www.musiXmatch.com


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