Roc-A-Fella Records
The imperial Skateboard P
Great Hova
Y'all already know what it is! (Oh sh*t!)
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 motherf**king 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 wrists-es'll bring the kilo bidness
I got Creole C.O. bitches for my niggas
Who slipped, became prisoners, treats taped to the visitors
You already know what the bid ness is
Unnecessary conversary, boy, we live this sh*t
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
Nah, I don't spin on my head
I spin my work in the pot, so I can spend my bread

And I'm getting it, I'm getting it
I ain't talking about it, I'm living it
I'm getting it, straight getting it
G—G—G—Get— Get— Get it, boy
Don't waste your time
Fighting the life
Stay your course
And you'll understand (Get it, boy)

It's '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 who 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 M3s with the top back (top back)
Red and green Gs 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 getting it, I'm getting it
I ain't talking about it, I'm living it
I'm getting it, straight getting it
G—G—G—Get— Get— Get it, boy
Don't waste your time
Fighting the life
Stay your course
And you'll understand (Get it, boy)

Ugh, push
Money over broads, you got it—f**k Bush
Chef, guess what I cooked?
Baked a lot of bread and kept it off the books
Rock star, look
Way before the bars, my picture was getting took
Feds, they like wack rappers
Try as they may, they couldn't get me on the hook, ugh
D.A. wanna indict me
'Cause fish scale's 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 getting it, I'm getting it
I ain't talking about it, I'm living it
I'm getting it, straight getting it
G—G—G—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 any more than they know the—the Chairman of General Mills. My man